The Elladan Show
by Claudi007
Summary: Elladan's university situation worsens. Elrohir may just be getting crazier. Sequel to Home for the Holidays, followed by Rivendell Nine to Five. Complete.
1. Default Chapter

NOTE: The story preceeding this one, "From Rohan With Love", is not posted on ff.net due to formatting. The nature of the story sort of demands that images are incorporated, so it's necessary to view it on my site (listed in my bio information). Click on the link, enter, click on the "fiction" button and either click on "Claudio" or scroll down to my name. The story is there for all to read in its image-filled glory. 

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July 1st 

To sum things up and quickly gloss over the events of the past few months, the war against Mordor is now over and the One Ring has been destroyed. Everyone is in Minas Tirith for the wedding tomorrow. Arwen is here (of course), along with Dad, Glorfindel, Aralindë, Erestor, Grandma, and Grandpa. Aragorn is the King of Gondor now. There is serious talk of moving to Valinor. It's all incredibly strange. Really, the only one I can count on to behave in a familiar way is Elrohir. Which isn't saying much. I think my life may have taken a turn for the worse now that I have to rely on Elrohir's talking to the iguana as a sign of homey comfort. 

I spent most of today helping Arwen, who is this close to having a stress overload, do last-minute weddingy preparations like deciding how the napkins should be folded (fans or swans?) and choosing whether to have confetti or bubbles. Aragorn chose bubbles. Then it was my job to keep her from noticing that the bubbles Aragorn chose were "Party Blow" brand. The label sticker made Legolas and Elrohir giggle girlishly. I also had to take grandpa to the nearest mall and help him pick out shoes. He was looking for something along the lines of "a nice type of shoe [he] could wear to Arwen's wedding, and perhaps to have supper with Elrond, and then also maybe to wear on the plane to Valannor." Unfortunately none of the shops had shoes for those specific purposes, so he ended up just buying brown lace-ups that look exactly like his old shoes. 

So now all that's left to do is organise my outfit for tomorrow. I was really hoping that I'd be able to go out and buy something new and classy, but unfortunately dad had the annoying foresight to bring stupid formal Elf clothes for Elrohir and me. I tried pleading with him that nobody wears those dumb outfits any more, and that even Glorfindel would probably be wearing one of his of rayon suits. But dad said no, Glorfindel was wearing some fancy new Vanya costume that Aralindë made, and that the least I could do was get dressed up and look nice for one day for my sister's wedding. Noldo costume it is, then. I can't wait to get to Valinor and prove to him that nobody ever wears these lame robes any more. I have seen satellite telly from Tirion. They all wear regular trousers and shirts like everybody else. I distinctly remember that Finarfin was wearing a button-up coat and tie for his Arfiommereth speech last year, not some ugly velvet drapey thing. 

July 3rd 

After some fuss and much bother, Arwen and Aragorn were married yesterday. There were even television crews live on location to broadcast the event all over Middle-earth. I hope they show it in Valinor too. This seems like the sort of thing that mum would probably want to see. 

I woke up yesterday morning to the sound of Arwen and dad arguing. Dad has the hotel room next to mine, so I could hear clearly through the wall. Arwen was whining on about how she was sure Elrohir was going to wreck something somehow. Dad was telling her she should have faith in him, and that he wouldn't do anything deliberately, but Arwen ended with, "Well it's *my* wedding and I don't want him ruining things!" Ten minutes later dad came into my room. He put me in charge of minding Elrohir. He said, "I know Elrohir means well, but sometimes trouble just happens." And he's right. Trouble is attracted to Elrohir like tornadoes to trailer parks. So I was put in charge of pre-emptive strikes against said trouble. He gave me strict instructions that the iguana was not to attend the ceremony, supper, or reception. 

I took Elrohir for a walk about the hotel to try to work off some energy. I let him bring the iguana to try to get all of the day's iguana-handling out of his system. I suppose it was my job to make sure he didn't impale all the complimentary Gummi Bears on the complimentary almonds, but I did let him act out a few gruesome Gummi Bear deaths to get that out of his system too. Then I ushered him out of the banquet hall and let him amuse himself by taping "OUT OF ORDER" signs on all the hotel's Coke machines. 

At noon it was time to change into our dumb-looking Elf clothes and help Aragorn get dressed in his equally dumb-looking Númenórean clothes for the ceremony. He was rather on-edge and ornery. I blame that on the fact that he'd had nothing to drink or smoke in the past week, for fear of not being able to perform on his wedding night. Then I forced Elrohir to say goodbye to the iguana and stick it in the bathroom for safekeeping, and we all went down to the lobby where the guests and television crews were waiting. The place looked rather like it had exploded with flowers, ribbons, and tulle. My guess is that Arwen did the decoration design herself. We found Legolas standing forlornly in the middle of the aisle, wondering whether he should sit on the bride's side or the groom's side, since although he was Aragorn's friend, he had also dated Arwen very briefly back in December. He and Elrohir eventually decided to compromise by sitting beside dad for a while, then getting up and switching to the other side halfway through. I sat beside dad on Arwen's side and pretended I didn't know them. 

Arwen sniffled throughout the entire ceremony. She's lucky she was wearing waterproof makeup. Long speeches were given, rings were exchanged, she and Aragorn kissed, and lo and behold, they were married. Half the women in attendance looked misty-eyed and dreamy. Half the men looked bored out of their minds. Elrohir fidgeted. Frodo fell asleep. But it eventually ended, and we were allowed to go back to our rooms for an hour to freshen up before the supper. I shed my Elf robes gladly at that point. So did Elrohir and Glorfindel, and even grandma, I noticed when we got to the banquet hall. In fact, only dad, Arwen and Aragorn were left in their fancy outfits. 

After many long speeches and toasts and kisses between the newlyweds, we finally got to eat. Then there was a dance. A cheesy band played top stereotypical hits of the ages while old people shuffled around the floor with drinks and pastries in their hands. I had to dance with Elrohir, then Legolas, then Arwen, then Elrohir again, then Merry and Pippin at the same time, then Aralindë (who caught Arwen's bouquet and refused to let it go), then Legolas again, then grandma (twice). Then I sat down and had a drink with dad while watching others. The whole thing went on for hours until gradually the guests started to leave. At this point grandpa was starting to look a bit exhausted. Unfortunately, grandma and Glorfindel were busy doing some wild swing dancing (from the looks of the dance floor they were the only ones who knew how to do it properly) and he didn't want to leave without her. So I took him to the lobby café for a cup of coffee to keep him awake. 

Three cups of coffee and a gradpaesque rant about changing times later, we were back in the banquet hall. Less than a third of the guests were still around, Arwen was handing out pieces of cake to those who were leaving, and Elrohir and Legolas were politely trying to shake off a horde of young girls who seemed to have crushes on them. The only thing missing was grandma and Glorfindel. This of course immediately sent warning bells ringing loudly, since I'd been watching them with a certain element of disgust all evening, drinking too much and touching each other inappropriately ever since Aralindë went to bed two hours earlier. So I sat grandpa down next to dad and told him to stay there while I went to do an emergency assessment of the situation. 

I hurried up to the twelfth floor of the hotel and knocked on grandma's door hoping for the best. The worst was ascertained when Glorfindel, wearing nothing visible, opened the door just enough to peek out. I tried to remain calm when I asked him what in the world he was doing. He said, "Galadriel and I are having a conference." Still doing my best to be calm, I asked, "Glorfindel, did you have sex with my grandmother?" He paused a moment before saying, "Well yes, but-" I cut him off and said, "I don't want to hear it." Then I pulled the door shut and hurried back down the corridor. He opened the door again and, poking his head out, yelled, "I didn't do it *tonight*!" 

So he has slept with grandma in the past! As if that's supposed to make things better! I ran to the lift in an attempt to hurry back to the banquet hall and prevent grandpa from coming upstairs and witnessing the scene, but as luck would have it he was just coming up as I was waiting to go down. I did my best to explain that we had to go back to the banquet hall for Arwen's sake because it was her special day and she wanted family to be there. He grumbled that he wanted to sleep. However, he was too tired to shove me out of the way, so we ended up going back down to the hall. I stuck him in the chicken dance circle, where Elrohir was teaching a group of children all the proper movements in the correct sequence. Then he danced for a while with Arwen, who kept on sniffling. I was able to keep him in the hall for another half hour before the band quit playing and the reception was officially over. Another twenty minutes was spent saying goodbye to the remaining guests. Then we all went up to the top floor. I bought all the remaining time I could by telling grandpa we had to escort Arwen and Aragorn to their room at the opposite end of the corridor, but that was it. Eventually I was forced to let him go to his own room. 

I took the key and opened the door first, sincerely hoping that Glorfindel had found the decency to leave. I saw that the bed had been made up somewhat, and was almost relieved until I heard laughter coming from the bathroom. Grandma and Glorfindel were in the Jacuzzi (grandma was at least wearing a swimsuit, or at least a swimsuit top), sharing a joint and drinking champagne straight from the bottle. They smiled at us. Grandpa looked a bit confused. Glorfindel patted the edge of the tub and said to him, "Come on in, it's quite nice." I muttered to grandpa, "They're a bit mad, I think. You can stay in my room if you want." But grandpa only shook his head and sat down tiredly on the bathroom stool. Then grandma said, "Elladan, we have things to discuss with Celeborn. Would you mind?" I did not mind. In fact I was glad to leave the awkward scene. I hurried back down to my own room, where Elrohir, Legolas and Pippin (he is as much trouble as they are, I have come to realise) were innocently trying to figure out what the iguana's favourite food is. On my bedspread of all places. I'm not sure why they couldn't have done this in Elrohir's room, but oh well. They are good for a diversion, if nothing else. 

I spent half the night, after cleaning mushy banana and cat food off the blankets, worrying about what grandma and Glorfindel are up to that requires having a talk with grandpa. Surely they're not expecting him to actually approve of their scandalous behaviour? I mean I know he spends an awful lot of time complaining that grandma is an insatiable nymphomaniac who ought to have four husbands instead of just one, but I don't think he's ever been really *serious* about it. And why can't grandma and Glorfindel go about having a regular secret affair like everybody else? Don't they have any respect for the sanity of others?! 

I couldn't come up with any answers last night, nor this morning either when we all met for breakfast together. But grandpa was being unprecedentedly nice to Glorfindel, treating him like a respected business partner or something, so I'm starting to worry that maybe he wasn't really joking with all those "four husbands" comments. Though on the other hand Glorfindel had gone back to inappropriately touching Aralindë while touching grandma in a merely friendly manner, so I have no idea what's going on there. The four of them ended up deciding to go to the cinema together after breakfast, leaving me confused and annoyed. I might have to outright ask grandma or Glorfindel what the deal is tonight after the gift-opening supper since this being silently observant tactic is sure getting me nowhere. 

July 4th 

The gift opening last night was about as boring as any family gathering can possibly be. We all got to sit around and watch Arwen coo and sigh over silverware and wine crystal while Aragorn stood beside her in a way that indicated he was posing for potential photo opportunities. I never did get to ask grandma what was going on with Glorfindel, since she was too busy keeping grandpa under control. The lack of sleep from the previous night caught up with him around six, and he was stubborn and ornery from that point on. We were served salmon at the post-gift-opening supper, but all he wanted was a poached egg. He refused to eat anything else. Halfway through the supper I distinctly heard grandma hiss, "Oh for Valar's sake, Celeborn, quit moaning and eat your damn salmon!" He quit moaning, but from the look of his plate afterward he didn't eat a bite of the damn salmon. I decided it would be best just to leave them alone. 

He stayed in his room all day today to recover, and grandma stayed with him. Glorfindel took Aralindë to the mall to buy new clothes. Yesterday when they went to the cinema she saw all the new summer fashions in the girly shops and was dead pleased to note that this summer, babydoll halter tops and incredibly low-rise jeans are in, meaning she won't have to buy actual maternity wear. I asked her if she thought this meant the fashion industry was catering to highschool pregnancy victims, but she only rolled her eyes and said, "As if! I graduated from highschool two weeks ago!" 

July 5th 

We had yet another family day today. The past five days have all been "family day". Really I'd be much happier if I were left to my own devices, but Arwen is milking this wedding nonsense for all it's worth and everyone is doing what she says. And today she announced we'd have a family outing to the Flamingo World Waterslide Park east of the city. 

Now the thing is, Arwen doesn't even *like* waterslides. So I had no idea why she'd want to go to Flamingo World. Elrohir's always wanted to go on a family vacation to the Flamingo World near Mirkwood, but she's always vetoed that. I spent all morning wondering why she would want to go water sliding, and all the drive there, until we actually arrived and changed into our swimmers. And then, as we gathered on the deck, it dawned on me. Arwen only wanted to show off her new bikini. Preferably in an environment where Elrohir would be too distracted to think of snapping the straps every time she turned around. 

Elrohir and Legolas, whom he'd brought along, immediately took off to discover trouble in one form or another. Aragorn stared after them wistfully as they sped off to the tube rental window, but remained standing dutifully beside Arwen. She suggested they go sit in the shallow pool, the one that's surrounded by flowers. He said, "Sure, that sounds like fun," though something in his voice told me he didn't mean it. 

Dad put on his sunglasses and lay down on the nearest lounger. He was wearing a speedo. I was forced to inch away and pretend I didn't know him. Then Erestor lay down on the next lounger. He was wearing saggy old shorts and had a bad sock tan. I inched further away. But when Erestor covered his entire body from the ankles up with a towel and explained that he was going to try to get rid of his sock tan, I knew it was time to leave altogether. I didn't want to be around when little kids saw them and ended up having their childish fantasies of Elves being mysterious and exotic crushed forever. 

I tried to escape to the refreshment hut, but Glorfindel and Aralindë were already there. And trying to get anyone's attention, even the bartender's, when Glorfindel is wearing a swimsuit is just not feasible. No matter where he goes, no matter what he's wearing, people will always stare at him. But when he's in his trendy surfer shorts, the attention is magnified to destructive proportions. I could stand there all day and yell, "Hey, I'm an Elf too, pay attention to me!" but it would do no good. So naturally I did not do that. I did, though, step away from the hut just in time to be grabbed by Elrohir and Legolas as they ran by. Elrohir yelled, "Comeonelladanweregoingtothe BIG slide!" 

The big slide turned out to be the one that shoots you off a twelve foot drop at the end. I did not go on it a second time. Instead I went and sat in the hot tub. Then I went and sat in the shallow pool with Aragorn and Arwen. People were staring at her too, which made Aragorn both proud and smug at the same time. I didn't really care since the attention to her wasn't preventing me from ordering anything to drink. Eventually Elrohir and Legolas came to join us too, looking a bit waterlogged and exhausted. Then people stared at Legolas. I suppose he is hazardously attractive, in his own goofy sort of way. The people stared even more when he and Elrohir started acting strangely, poking each other with their noses and making peculiar high-pitched sounds. An innocent bystander asked me if they were displaying normal Elvish behaviour patterns. I had to assure her that no, they were just being idiots. Then Elrohir punched me in the shoulder and told me I was "wrecking the game". 

Some hours later, after Elrohir got himself kicked out of the park for pantsing Legolas in the kiddie pool and then taking him down to the Lost and Found to file a report for lost dignity, Arwen decided it was time to leave. She was getting somewhat tired of the tabloid photographers and television news people crowding around. Apparently the King and Queen of Gondor going to a waterslide park is big news, and she didn't want images of Aragorn grabbing her chest to appear on national telly. So we went to collect dad and Erestor. If possible, they were looking slightly more embarrassing than when I left them. Dad had fallen asleep and had neglected to turn himself over, so he was sunburned pink on the front but still quite white on the back. And Erestor had gone in the pool, so his swimmers were wet, saggy and clingy, leaving very little imagination. I hurried them into the changeroom as quickly as possible so that they wouldn't be seen by Arwen's paparazzi followers. 

The rest of the day was spent in my room by myself on the computer. I've had enough family days to last for a good long while now. Maybe if I tell them I'm suffering from an excitement overload they'll leave me alone and I won't be expected to go to Aragorn and Arwen's housewarming barbeque tomorrow. 

July 6th 

I had to go to the barbeque. It was a small casual affair combined hazardously with hot sunny weather. That meant some people decided they didn't have to wear shirts. 

It's never the people you want to see shirtless who go walking about in only their cutoffs. No, it's always the embarrassing people. Dad, Erestor, Gandalf and Gimli come immediately to mind. From what I remember they all had shirts when they arrived at the barbeque, but somehow they shed their clothing partway through after everyone had been given a hamburger and a can of Kokanee. I sat on the patio steps and watched the festivities with a high level of disinterest. At some point Frodo, poking disinterestedly at a paper plate of coleslaw, came and sat next to me. He helped come up with a list of who of all people at the barbeque should be allowed to go shirtless, and who should not. 

Arwen, Aralindë, grandma and Éowyn, we decided, should not go shirtless because they are girls and would cause a disastrous distraction. However, they might be allowed to wear bikini tops in non-public environments. 

Elrohir, Legolas, Merry and Pippin could in theory go shirtless because, even though they are sort of skinny and pasty white, they have strange enough personalities to make the look work. A better fashion choice for them though might be just wearing a button-up shirt and keeping it unbuttoned. A few months ago Aragorn would have been able to go shirtless, because he was sort of surly and had the right attitude. But now he acts more like a politician, so he has keep his clothes on. Same goes for Éomer. 

Anyone with a full beard should not go shirtless ever. That means Gandalf and Gimli. They ought to remain covered at all times. 

I don't know Faramir at all, so I couldn't make a call on this one. He looks fair enough, but Frodo assured me that while he's a nice fellow, he's not exactly cool. He sounds a lot like grandpa, actually, from Frodo's description. So he'd better keep his shirt on. Grandpa too. Frodo said Sam should be allowed to go shirtless, but I'm not sure why. Sam's sort of pudgy and looks to me like the sort that should stay dressed. But again it was Frodo's call, since I don't know Sam at all either. 

Glorfindel is allowed to go shirtless. In fact, he should probably be shirtless all the time. Unfortunately, that's not the case; he's almost always fully dressed. Which is completely unfair. Here all the pasty white Noldor (and Sindar, who look rather like pale washed-out versions of Vanyar) have to actually work at getting a tan to look half decent in a swimsuit, while he can keep himself fully covered at all times and then emerge once or twice a year with his perfect golden skin to match his perfect golden hair. Now if that's not proof that Eru loves the Vanyar best, I don't know what is. 

As mentioned above, the Noldor really do need a tan to look decent in swimsuits (or shorts). Erestor and dad are not tanned. Therefore they do not look decent in shorts. They ought to keep their shirts on. They don't, but they ought to. And I might look rather like them, but at least I have the sense to know that I am much better off when I keep my clothes on. Frodo thinks the same. Therefore, to save ourselves much potential embarrassment, we have made a pact not to go shirtless unless we are actually planning on going swimming. We briefly considered making up similar contracts for the others to sign as well, but that idea was tossed out when we realised we don't have a printer to hook up to my computer. Too bad. 

July 7th 

The madness seems to have ended. Arwen and Aragorn announced that they're having "alone time" today, so that rules out annoying family activities. Which is actually sort of fortunate, since I think everyone is pretty much sick of everyone else. Dad told us to all order room service for supper tonight in place of another family dining experience. I'm certainly not complaining about that. I'm perfectly happy to sit in my room and eat overpriced fishsticks while playing computer pinball. 

July 8th 

I ended up going over to Elrohir's room last night, since he buzzed me and said he'd ordered a pay-per-view horror movie. Legolas showed up as well. We all sat on Elrohir's bed eating room service chips and making fun of the crappy special effects. Then we somehow got into the contents of the minibar. Then Elrohir and Legolas had a burping contest. Then Elrohir got a pin stuck between his front teeth. Then I don't remember what happened, but I remember waking up this morning when dad came and knocked at the door. I was still in Elrohir's room, across the foot of the bed, with Legolas on the floor beside me and Elrohir sort of curled up in a nest made of all the blankets and pillows. My socks had disappeared. 

Dad wanted to know if we were coming down for breakfast. I yelled "yes" through the door, but Elrohir and Legolas made grumpy tired noises so I changed my answer to a "no". We stayed as we were, flopped down after a night of drunken revelry, until about two. Then we watched a lame romantic comedy on pay-per-view while eating room service pizza. All in all, I think it was the best day so far. 

July 9th 

Legolas just asked me if I want to go to Red Lobster for supper tonight. Part of me is suspicious that he's up to something, but then common sense tells me he's not sneaky enough to be up to something. So I don't know what to do. If I go I'm certain that something odd will happen, but if I don't go I'll never find out what he might be up to. And Elrohir might be helping him with his plan, which means I really ought to be responsible and go, if only to stop them from destroying the restaurant in some capacity. I think I should go. Also, I like lobster, so that's always a plus. 

July 10th 

Legolas didn't seem to be up to anything. We went to Red Lobster (he drove, which surprised me- I didn't even think he knew how) and had a normal supper. The whole while I waited for something strange to happen, but nothing came. We arrived, sat down, ordered, talked about recent happenings, ate, and left. He didn't once mention MTV in the entire conversation. So either this One Ring-destroying heroism escapade had a positive and educational influence on his life, or he's been replaced by an android. 

When we got back to the hotel Elrohir was heading off somewhere with Merry and Pippin to try to find a box of Crisco (for the iguana, he said, as if that would explain anything), so I was left alone with Legolas again. We ended up sitting in the lobby sipping fancy hotel drinks and having another conversation. It made me realise that I've had more conversations with Legolas in the past 24 hours than I ever considered possible. I suppose I always thought of him as less of a conversationalist and more of the type to randomly say nonsensical things at inappropriate times. 

Then today he asked me if I wanted to go for ice cream tomorrow. I said yes, but mainly because I know Arwen's coming by the hotel to get dad to help her arrange wedding photos into an album and I have no desire to get roped into doing that. Sad as it sounds, I think I'd rather help Legolas make tough decisions like whether to choose regular or sugar cone, and sprinkles or chocolate sauce. 

July 11th 

Having ice cream with Legolas wasn't quite as bad as I thought it would be. He didn't "accidentally" trip and smush it into my shirt or take half a hour to decide on which flavour like Elrohir usually does. We just quickly picked up these ice cream drink things that tasted like someone had put a Creamsicle through the blender and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around along the riverbank. I wish I'd thought to bring a blanket to sit on, since the riverbank was covered in goose feces, but we sat on a hard bench and he told me all about his adventure of the past few months. I was sorry to hear about Boromir's death, and interested in the details of Gandalf's turning from grey to white. 

We sat for probably two hours. Legolas really has become a better conversationalist since Fiommereth. It didn't sound like he was speaking with exclamation points at all. I think I actually may start to like him. 

July 12th 

Elrohir hijacked Legolas this morning for something that involved water guns. I think they were planning to use them in the hotel lobby. Naturally, I didn't want to stick around to find out, or witness the process of Legolas' redumbening. So I went to visit Faramir and express my sympathies upon learning the specifics of his brother's death. 

I chatted with Faramir for a bit over coffee and came to the conclusion that while he may have been the younger, he was certainly the more responsible of the two. He even had coasters on the coffee table. Then after coffee he told me he was glad that I'd stopped by, since he had something to give me. He went upstairs and came down a minute later with a cardboard box full of dirty magazines, Radiohead CDs, and other random items. It was the box of Boromir's personal belongings, and Faramir had decided to give it to me because Boromir had mentioned my name in an email he'd sent in December and therefore I must have been one of his friends. 

I ended up taking the box back to the hotel. I'm not sure what I'll do with the contents. Radiohead CDs I might be able to use, and possibly his Anor College hoodie, but I have no desire to look at magazines full of pictures of mortal women with enormous boobs. And I'm guessing the unmarked video tapes will be more of the same. I'll have to look through it more thoroughly and make some executive decisions on the Material Estate of Boromir Son of Denethor. 

July 13th 

Of Boromir's belongings, I have decided to keep the following: CDs, hoodie, non-dirty magazines, Darth Vader action figure still in original packaging, blank CDs, Video-8 camcorder, expensive-looking dictionary, travel alarm clock, unopened paint set, atlas of Middle-earth, road maps of Lindon and the Shire. 

I will give the following to Elrohir: Sega Genesis system with six games, complete set of X-Men trading cards, X-Men comics, action movie DVDs, oversize novelty beer mug, autographed photo of some movie star, WWF poster, blacklight and blacklight poster of a marijuana leaf, pack of Zig Zags, Belfalas flag. 

The dirty magazines and tapes might as well go to Glorfindel, since he's the only one I can think of who would appreciate them (aside from Aragorn, but I don't think Arwen would appreciate him appreciating them). 

July 14th 

I distributed all of Boromir's things. There were a few small items left in the bottom of the box afterward: a yo-yo, a half-used disposable camera, a hand-held electronic blackjack game with no batteries. a pack of Dentyne Ice and some shoelaces. I gave those to Legolas. Glorfindel leafed through the magazines and decided he didn't want any, so I'm still stuck with those. I note he kept the tapes, though. Elrohir was thrilled with the Sega and hooked it up to the telly in his room straight away. He's been playing Sonic the Hedgehog for the past four hours. 

July 15th 

Glorfindel brought back six of the eight tapes. Five of those, he informed me, were gay porn. The sixth was Hobbits. He didn't say what the other two were, but if he's keeping them, I'm sure I don't really want to know. 

I gave the Hobbit tape to Merry and Pippin, who also gladly took the magazines off my hands. I'm not sure what to do with the other five tapes, though. I mean, I might as well keep them, since Faramir did after all entrust them to me. Not that I'll ever watch them or anything, but I probably should keep them around, if only for sentimental value. 

July 16th 

We are leaving Minas Tirith on Saturday. It's about time. I've been living in hotels and tents since the beginning of March. That's far too long to be away from an actual bedroom, so I'm quite looking forward to going back home. Not that I'm really sure where home is. I suppose Elrohir will expect us to return to our pathetic filth hole on the west side, though in all honesty I'd much rather go back to living with dad, and I think dad would like that too. Otherwise it would be just him and Erestor in the house now that Arwen's gone, and I don't like to think of those two being left alone together. They'd get up to no good for sure, like lounge-lizard-theme karaoke parties and staff gathering poolside barbeques with Beach Boys music in the background. 

Though to be fair, they do that when I am at home too. 

July 17th 

I asked Elrohir today if he was expecting us to move back to our horrid house. Of course he said yes. Now I'm going to have to find some way out of it without hurting his feelings. 

LATER: I was talking with Glorfindel about moving when he said, rather suddenly, "Oh, that reminds me- your house was condemned shortly after you left. Ara and I moved into a condo downtown. Your things are back at your dad's place." 

Well I guess that sorts things out easily enough. I would have been angry with Glorfindel for not bothering to tell me sooner had I not been so relieved. Now I just have to tell Elrohir. Or maybe I'll get Glorfindel to tell Elrohir. He's moving to Valinor in a few weeks anyhow and doesn't have to worry about staying on good terms with anyone any more. 

July 18th 

I took Glorfindel to tell Elrohir about the condemned house. Elrohir's first concern was for the cat. Glorfindel assured him that the cat was safely living in the care of Bilbo Baggins. Then he was concerned about the iguana cage, the Nintendo, and his other important personal belongings. Those had been moved to dad's. Then Elrohir shrugged and said, "Well, alright." He didn't seem to care too much. Maybe the novelty of living away from home has worn off and he's ready to return to a more comfortable lifestyle. I sure hope so, because I don't think I can take any more west side neighbourhoods. 

When I got back to my room, dad was waiting to see me. He explained in a very long and roundabout way that, since he was seriously considering moving to Valinor sometime in the near future, I should really look into finishing my degree so that I'm qualified to get a government job and take over for him. I said I'd think about it. He said, "There's nothing to think about, Elladan. You only have one year left and you're going to do it. I've taken the liberty of registering you in the necessary classes at Grey Havens University. You'll be graduating this spring." 

Then he handed me an envelope from GHU with my class schedule. Five classes each semester! One of which is at 9-30 every Monday, Wednesday and Friday! Dad obviously knows nothing about making a class schedule. I will have to ring Círdan as soon as I'm back in Rivendell and get this mess sorted out. If I have to go back to university, I'll make my own schedule. I have it down to an art form now. Last year I had classes only on Tuesday and Thursday, and the earliest one started at 11-30. Now that's more like it. 

After dad left and was finishing packing up my things to leave tomorrow, Elrohir came and asked me if I was interested in finding a new house with him. I had to pretend to be really disappointed as I informed him that unfortunately I would be leaving for GHU again at the end of August, so there was really no point in trying to find a new house for that short time. He looked a bit crushed. Then he suggested that maybe we could just move into the basement and pretend it was our own house. I told him I'd think about it, then quickly changed the subject. I asked him if the iguana was ready to go. Talking about the iguana never fails. He said yes, he had packed all of the iguana's things (???) and both of them were ready to go. Although, he worried, the iguana might get a bit carsick if it eats too much. 

I will have to remember not to sit next to either of them on the drive home. In fact, I might ask Glorfindel if I can go in his car. I'd have to put up with Aralindë in that case, but I'm sure she's no worse than a carsick iguana. 


	2. The Elladan Show 2

August 20th  
  
We arrived back in Rivendell very late last night. Even though I've now done it, I'm still not really sure how it's possible to take a *month* to drive up from Minas Tirith. Really, it should take four days, maybe five. But when travelling with old people who want to stop everywhere and stay a while to reminisce, that time period is greatly expanded.   
  
We stopped in Edoras for King Théoden's funeral, which is understandable, then at the Doors of Moria, which is not. Most of the time spent on the road wasn't actually spent on the road at all. It was spent rather at off-road "rest stops" where we all got out of the cars and met up to spend far too long reminiscing about boring things like sunsets and mountain views. Grandma and dad were the worst. Every once in a while dad would say "Well, I guess this is the last we'll ever see of this place," and then grandma would flop against grandpa's shoulder and break out into sobs. Not that things went any faster after she and grandpa left the convoy.  
  
In any case, by the time we finally got back here, Glorfindel was in a bit of a panic. His plane to Valinor leaves in ten days and he's not packed yet. Elrohir and I are supposed to go help him later this afternoon, but to tell the truth, I'm not really inclined to leave the house. Or really inclined to leave my bedroom at all. I've been travelling around from place to place since March, and at the moment I'm incredibly interested in taking at least one day of rest in my own room in my own home. Sort of. I guess it's my home by default now, since my last home was condemned.  
  
August 21st  
  
The Vala of rest (whoever that might be... Lórien maybe?) seems to be set against me. I ended up going to help Glorfindel yesterday afternoon, more as an excuse to get away from dad, who was in the mood for yet more reminiscing, than because I was really keen on helping Glorfindel pack 7000 years worth of accumulated crap into overseas shipping crates. Dad and Erestor had taken out all the old photo albums and were looking through pictures from the First and Second Ages. They were wearing jeans that were too short and sitting around the dining room table. Dad was wearing a hat that he got free with a can of Para Paint three years ago. It was incredibly difficult to try to equate them with the younger thems in the photos, especially when I realised that the younger thems look an awful lot like I look now, and I don't want to have to consider that I might look like the older thems in about 3000 years. I'd rather spend time with Glorfindel. He still looks exactly the same as he did before Erestor and dad were even born. That gives me hope.  
  
Glorfindel does have 7000 years worth of accumulated crap. Thankfully not too much, not as much as dad by a long shot, but still enough to make packing a chore. It was my job to sift through it all and help him decide what was worth keeping. And owns some very odd things. Compared to everybody else I know, his collection of "stuff" is not at all normal. Most of it is from the early Second Age, if not the First. All of his furniture looks like it belongs on Antiques Road Show. He has a couple of lamps that look like they may have been manufactured within the last five hundred years, but that's it. And then there are the little things. A few old books, records, pens, cutlery, a paint set, little wall hangings, wood carvings, a box of jewellery, dishes, candle sticks, mirrors, hair brushes, slippers and so forth, all much older than I. In fact, I'd venture a guess that the only significant modern items he owns are his car and his mobile. Otherwise, his lifestyle doesn't appear to have changed at all in the past six thousand years. He still has *clothes* from the First Age, and even some that he brought from Valinor, and he doesn't have a television.  
  
In the end, we decided to keep everything. If he'd had a condo full of crappy shopping-channel gadgets, then culling would be easy. But it's sort of hard to just toss out things that have been around for longer than I can even imagine. Glorfindel agreed, and in the end wanted to keep everything. I should hope so. If he's bothered to take the trouble to carry it all around from place to place over the past several millennia, I would hope it's all worthwhile. We packed as much as we could carefully into crates. Then Glorfindel asked me if I was hungry. I stalled my answer at first, thinking he was going to threaten to cook, but then he said, "We can stop someplace for supper before I pick Ara up from the mall."  
  
We went to some crazy vegetarian restaurant where everything had soy or whole wheat in it. My salad had wheat in it. My drink was made out of soy. I don't know what the rest was, but it was probably made of wheat and soy too, with a few green things thrown in for good measure. It tasted like something that primitive Elves might have made way back in the day before they invented hunting and cooking. I'm at a loss as to why that sort of stuff is considered trendy and cool.  
  
The first thing I did when I got back home was microwave a hot dog. They're nice and processed and seasoned and only take thirty seconds to prepare straight out of the package; truly the epitome of modern cuisine.  
  
August 22nd  
  
University starts in eleven days. I am going back to the Grey Havens in ten days. I've switched around my class schedule into something more manageable, but still I don't feel ready to go back. Somehow the prospect of packing all my belongings into two suitcases and a carry-on isn't all that appealing. I just *know* that whatever I deem unnecessary and leave behind will be required for whatever reason come mid-October. In first year I was convinced I wouldn't need my formal Noldo costume, but that turned out to be a very wrong assumption. I will have to plan every day carefully this time around to make sure I don't forget to bring anything important.  
  
On the other hand, dad ingeniously booked me into the Mindon Residence, and those rooms are about the size of a bathroom, so I might also have to do some very careful space planning to make sure all of my stuff fits.  
  
August 23rd  
  
Started packing, got discouraged, stopped, watched telly for a while, started packing all over again. So far, I have decided that I need to bring my pillow, some bedding, my computer, television, DVD-video, movies, CDs, books, binder, pencil case, toiletries, alarm clock, calendar, and magnet board. If that all fits into one suitcase, then with any luck I'll be able to fit all my clothes into the other suitcase and carry-on.  
  
August 24th  
  
I am able to fit the pillow, bedding, DVD-video, binder, pencil case, alarm clock, calendar, and magnet board into the first suitcase, with some candles stuffed in to fill up the corners and a few family photos on top. I will have to box up my CDs and movies and have dad send those to me on the bus, I think. For some reason, it seems like I have more and more stuff each year.  
  
August 25th  
  
I had to unpack everything last night to take out my pillow so I could sleep. I think I'll have to leave that suitcase to pack last, on the morning of the 1st before my plane leaves.  
  
I started to pack the other suitcase, and it was already full before I got to my closet. So I took everything out again, and only packed my favourite items. Two pair of jeans, three pair of black trousers, one pair of good dress trousers, twelve tee-shirts, six long-sleeve shirts, four button-up shirts, one good dress shirt, one tie, gym kit, twenty pair of underwear, twenty pair of socks, winter coat, light jacket, fleece hoodie, sport coat, the fancy Noldo costume, two pair of regular shoes, one pair of good dress shoes, one pair of boots, winter gloves, scarf and hat, vampire cape to wear to Balathin cabaret, regular pyjamas, winter pyjamas, and one bathrobe. And one bath towel, one hair towel, and one facecloth, though those don't really count as clothes.  
  
It still didn't fit. I took out one tee-shirt, one long-sleeve shirt, one pair of jeans, the light jacket, and one pair of shoes to wear on the plane. It still didn't fit. I took out the Noldo costume and the bathrobe and squished it all down. It sort of fit. I took out one of the towels and squished again, and was able to close the suitcase. That task is done. Of course now I'll be stuck wearing my least favourite clothes for the next few days, but I guess it's worth it to be able to have the packing worry off my mind.  
  
August 26th  
  
Elrohir is also packing. I'm not sure where he thinks I'm going or if he thinks he's coming with me, but he's packing. His method is to stand a suitcase up on its end vertically, stuff a bunch of clothes down into it, squish everything down, dump some more stuff on top, squish it down, stuff more, squish more, and so forth until the suitcase is full. Then once it's all full he shakes the suitcase so stuff settles further to the bottom, then opens it up just enough to stuff in a few more small items. He will repeat the shaking and stuffing process several times over the next few days. I've seen him do it before. By the end, his suitcase is always bulging so much out the sides he has to tie it up to keep the seams from bursting.  
  
August 27th  
  
I watched Elrohir continue packing today until my curiosity got the better of me and I asked him where he was going. He said, "Grey Havens, with you." I had to pause for a minute before explaining that I was going back to university, and living in a residence room big enough to fit a bed, a desk, and a closet with enough space left over for maybe two people to stand side by side. He said, "I know, I'm going to university too."  
  
I must've looked shocked or incredulous or something, because he turned around and grabbed a crumpled piece of paper from his backpack. It was his class schedule at GHU. He seems to be enrolled in Music Composition 310, Theatre Performance 403, Film Narrative Studies 251, and Conversational Quenya 300. The same conversational Quenya class I am enrolled in, I noted.  
  
I asked him what degree this was for, but he sort of shrugged and said, "I dunno." Then he said, rather defensively, "Dad said I could go!" I asked where he was staying. "Mindon Residence," he said. Of course. Not only am I going to be spending the next eight months living in a cell the size of a bathroom, I'll be living next door to Elrohir. I don't know why I ever agreed to go back to university at all.  
  
Oh that's right, I didn't. I don't have a choice in the matter.  
  
After supper I asked dad if he knew what Elrohir was up to with this university-going, and he said, "Of course, I encouraged him to go." I couldn't help but ask why. We both know that sending Elrohir to university is a bit of a waste of time and money. He skips most of his classes, and the ones he doesn't skip, he sleeps through. But dad only looked stern and said that he was proud of Elrohir for acting responsibly and having the desire to learn. I could see by his eyes that he wasn't in a mood to discuss this further. He's always held a bit of an unreasonable hope that Elrohir might not be stupid after all, and it was obvious that there was no point in trying to take that hope away from him.  
  
But honestly! Elrohir, a desire to learn? That's the last thing he'd want to do at university! Much more likely, he has a desire to get drunk indiscriminately on weekdays and spend weekends throwing impromptu toga parties in the residence common room. And sure enough, when I later asked him, he proudly told me he found a perfect pure white bed sheet to make into a toga.  
  
I went and checked my own bedding and was pleased to see I'd had the sense to pack the hideous jewel-tone abstract pattern sheets. There's no better excuse for getting out of a toga party than inappropriate attire, really.  
  
August 28th  
  
The first thing I heard this morning, as I was walking into the kitchen to discover breakfast, was an exasperated voice saying, "Can the crap, Peredhel, where's my idiot son?!" I peered cautiously around the corner. Dad was in the kitchen, and Erestor, along with what looked like two Glorfindels. Erestor was hiding behind a spider plant, and dad was standing at the table with a sort of deer-in-the-headlights look. One of the Glorfindels was sitting with a mug of coffee, and the other was standing in a decidedly aggressive pose opposite dad. From the back, they both looked the same- long blond hair and sharp black rayon suits.  
  
I tried to sneak away but dad, obviously looking for any escape from the situation, saw me and yelled out in a relieved voice, "Elladan! Come in here a minute!" I went. He said, "You remember Legolas' father, Thranduil, from Mirkwood? Thranduil, this is my son Elladan." I looked at Thranduil. From the front, he looked a bit like Legolas, if Legolas had been born with Glorfindel's personality and fashion sense. Though maybe a bit grumpier. I said, "Hi." He looked at me and said, "Hmm." I suddenly wished I'd thought to put on real clothes instead of dirty old jeans and a tee-shirt I got free from being in the Avid Readers club at the public library.  
  
Dad said, "Thranduil was just wondering if we knew anything on the whereabouts of Legolas, Elladan. Did he happen to tell you where he was going?" I said no, our parting words had been on the topic of laundry. I'd hugged him goodbye and commented that his hoodie smelled like Bounce sheets, and he'd told me about his trip to the laundromat. However, it was my impression that he was going to look around the Glittering Caves and Fangorn Forest with Gimli, and I mentioned that. Then Thranduil turned back to dad and said, "Damnit, Peredhel, the boy has the wits of a toothbrush! He needs to be supervised! How could you let him go off like that? And who is this Gimli character anyway?" Dad looked sheepish and started, "Erm, I believe he's a Dwarf from the-" but he didn't finish, because Thranduil cut him off with a string of unmentionable words.  
  
Thranduil eventually calmed down and sat beside Glorfindel with a defeated sigh that sounded a bit like, "I need a drink." Dad, who has no sense of when to just flee a situation instead of trying vainly to improve it, kept talking. "I'm sure Legolas will be fine," he said. "The trip to Mordor with Aragorn seems to have done him quite a bit of good. He's much more responsible now, and better at thinking things through." I could vouch for that. I noticed a definite improvement in him, compared to what he was like last summer and at Fiommereth. I distinctly heard him use the word "insinuate" in one of our Minas Tirith conversations. Thranduil seemed to think this over, and said, "Well, as long as he's home in time for..." and then paused as if considering what he'd ever need Legolas home for. He amended his statement to, "Well, as long as he's not dead!"  
  
August 29th  
  
I don't think Thranduil ever sleeps. He was up late last night playing Bubble Bobble with Elrohir when I went to bed, and he woke me up early this morning to get me to show him how to use the coffee maker. I asked him with some degree of annoyance why Elrohir couldn't be his coffee helper, and he said, "Elladan, your brother means well, but I wouldn't trust him to flush a toilet for me even if he'd taken an extensive training course and had special certification in toilet-flushing." And he's right. I wouldn't trust Elrohir to flush a toilet either. He'd probably get distracted by an ant on the bathroom lino and forget completely what he was supposed to be doing.  
  
He went on to tell me, while the coffee was brewing, how he'd tried to teach Elrohir some table manners last night after Glorfindel went home to finish up on last-minute packing. Unfortunately, Elrohir thought it was a game, and only agreed to learn if Thranduil agreed to play Bubble Bobble with him. Thranduil got a bit hooked, and they ended up playing Bubble Bobble until half three. I asked him why he stayed here instead of at Glorfindel's, where there is no Bubble Bobble and no Elrohir to distract him, and where he's supposed to be anyhow since he did in theory come to see Glorfindel off to Valinor. He said that there is no spare bed or even any bed at Glorfindel's now that all the furniture's been shipped, and he didn't fancy having to share the inflatable camp mattress. I guess that's reasonable. Then I asked him if dad knew he stayed here.  
  
He said he didn't quite know. He didn't see dad at all last night during his Bubble Bobble tournament, and it was Elrohir who showed him to a spare room. I decided it might be best to inform dad that Thranduil was hanging around the kitchen before he got up and found out for himself the hard way. Dad was in his room, asleep, with a crossword puzzle book lying open across his chest and a pencil nestled into a crease in his pyjamas. He looked very peaceful and relaxed so I just stood and watched him sleep for a while. There was a piece of fuzz on the end of his nose that fluttered when he breathed.  
  
After a minute I sat down on the edge of the bed and gently shook him awake. He startled, looked up at me, and immediately said, "What's wrong?" I assured him that nothing was wrong, then offered him my mug of coffee. I'd only had two sips out of it, and he couldn't tell I hadn't brought it especially for him. He eyed me warily and asked what I was up to. He knows me too well. I guess it's sort of sad that I can't bring my own father coffee in the morning without being suspected of something. I'll have to work at being a better son in the future.  
  
I waited until he didn't have a mouthful of coffee before telling him that Thranduil was still here. He sort of groaned and said, "Tell him I'm sick. Tell him we half-Elves get sick all the time, like mortals. He'll believe that. He's ignorant. He once asked me if I could grow a beard." I nodded and left him there mumbling to himself, and went back to Thranduil in the kitchen. I informed Thranduil that dad was suffering from crossword sickness and couldn't leave his bed for fear of not being able to think of a six-letter word for "obsolete". "Well," said Thranduil, "I guess I'll just have to rely on you then."  
  
Thus I was stuck entertaining Thranduil for the next twelve hours because Elrohir was too asleep and dad was too hiding and Glorfindel hadn't shown up yet and Erestor had just plain disappeared. I showed him around the house. He pointed out the room he was staying in- the one next to the furnace room where we always put Legolas when he comes. I told him he ought to move if he's going to be staying tonight as well, which he is, and we hauled his suitcase to Arwen's old room, which has a balcony, fireplace, television, and no noise from the humming furnace. He grinned and said, "Well Elladan, now I know for certain you're the smart twin!" Which is a compliment, I suppose, but it still concerns me that he had any doubt on that matter whatsoever. We sat in Arwen's old room and watched the news for a while, and when that got boring I took him for a drive to the Dairy Queen to get Dilly Bars because he had a 2-for-1 coupon that was valid only in Eriador.   
  
Glorfindel finally showed up around seven, apologising profusely for leaving poor Thranduil at the mercy of the Peredhil for so long. Thranduil clapped me on the back and told Glorfindel not to worry, that he's been having a great time. I should hope so. He'd won nearly $30 off me playing Crazy Eights, which I don't think is even a gambling game at all. And I didn't get a chance to win my money back, since he and Glorfindel went off to the kitchen to make some sort of good-bye mess. They came out an hour and a half later bearing pots of popular foods from their respective cultures. To be honest, I preferred the regular Mirkwood soup and potato thingies to the ridiculously spicy Vanyarin whatevertheyares. The smell of food lured Erestor out of hiding, but dad didn't show up until later when the drinking started.  
  
Glorfindel and Thranduil decided it would be a good idea to get roaringly drunk for old times' sake while fondly recalling stupid things they've done together over the years. There were a disproportionate number of stories involving luncheon meat (often in combination with Gil-galad in some way). They ended up laughing so hard they fell off their chairs. Dad and Erestor stared in shock at the confessions. I could tell by his expression that dad had always wanted to know who covered the windscreen of Gil-galad's Camaro with baloney. They ended up talking about Gil-galad for a while, and high kings in general. The more dad and Thranduil drank, the more argumentative the talk became.   
  
Then because I've always wanted to know, and because I knew dad was drunk enough not to get too unforgivably mad at me, I asked him why he never took the crown of the high king after Gil-galad died. He looked thoughtful for several long seconds, then said (in a loud, drunkenly slurred voice), "I guess I just didn't feel like it." Glorfindel said, "I was the high king once." Then Erestor started laughing hysterically. But dad was still looking thoughtfully serious, so I asked him if that meant the crown passed to me after he refused it. He nodded once, as if thinking to himself, before Glorfindel stood up and shouted, "No! It's mine!" Dad nodded again, more emphatically, and said, "That's right, Glorfindel's the high king now."  
  
I sarcastically said, "Oh really, when was the coronation?" but they didn't seem to catch the sarcastic part because Glorfindel's drunkenly unfocused eyes suddenly lit up and he said, "Coronation! We should do that before I go!" Thranduil jumped up and pointed an accusing finger at Glorfindel while yelling, "Bastard! I thought you were a socialist!" Glorfindel said, "I'll bring down the system from within!" That seemed good enough an answer for Thranduil. Then Erestor turned to him and asked, "Aren't you the king of Mirkwood?" Thranduil didn't answer that. He was too busy trying to stand steadily so he could help with Glorfindel's coronation.  
  
I'm not sure why they thought they should go through with it, but dad stumbled off to get Gil-galad's crown down from the display cabinet and Erestor gathered up more celebratory wine. Glorfindel meanwhile debated with himself over whether or not his clothes were suitable attire to become High King of the Noldor in. He decided they were not, so he stripped down to his shorts and tied the tablecloth around himself as a cape. It seemed a bit beyond my power to explain to them that none of this could in any way be considered a good idea. Least of all the fact that the High King of the Noldor in the East would be a Vanya who is moving to Valinor tomorrow. Naturally they didn't listen to me.  
  
The four of them, having decided that the back yard by the ponds would be an ideal place for the coronation, paraded outside. First dad, carrying the crown and sceptre on a pillow, then Glorfindel, looking very proud and noble indeed in his shorts and tablecloth, then Thranduil, shouting occasional curses to the Noldorin monarchy, then Erestor, taking an occasional swig from the celebratory bottle of wine he carried. They sang as they went, and made such a racket that Elrohir, who had been playing Nintendo through the whole spectacle thus far, came out to see what was going on. I sarcastically told him that we were about to witness the glorious historical moment of the crowning of the Seventh High King of the Noldor in the East. He didn't catch the sarcasm either, since he said, "Oh COOL!" and ran inside to get his camera.  
  
Dad had to ask Glorfindel what to do, since Glorfindel was the only one who'd ever been to an actual Noldorin coronation before. It ended up being a bungled and very abridged ceremony. Dad sloppily placed the crown on Glorfindel's head and proclaimed him High King. Then they drank more, and Elrohir took some pictures of Glorfindel making obscene gestures with his sceptre. Then Glorfindel stumbled over and put his arm around me, and said, "Now Elladan... since I'm leaving for Valinor tomorrow, I think you'll have to be in charge of running things here. So don't do anything wrong!" I humoured him and said, "Fine." He seemed happy with that, and went inside to ring Aralindë and tell her he was the high king. It was twenty after one in the morning. I'm sure she was thrilled to hear it.  
  
While Glorfindel was inside and Elrohir was taking pictures of Erestor balancing the wine bottle on various parts of his body and Thranduil trying to steal it from him, I took dad aside and tried to talk to him sensibly. I asked him if this coronation was legally binding. He said that as far as he knew, it was. Anyone descended from Finwë could claim the crown, if it were available, though it should in theory belong to the closest male relative of the previous king. So all this time the crown was just *sitting there*, I could have claimed it, being Gil-galad's first cousin three times removed! Also his second cousin once removed, on mum's side. I'll bet nobody could force me to go to university if I were High King of the Noldor!  
  
I told dad this (not the part about not going to university, though), and also pointed out to him that Glorfindel isn't exactly descended from Finwë. Dad said, "Sure he is." I said, "No, he's not." Dad said, "Yes he is. He's the son of your great-uncle Finrod."  
  
I think my first reaction to that was something along the lines of "What?!" which only made dad repeat himself even though I'd heard him the first time. I asked Erestor if this was true, but he only looked confused and said, "Maybe," then asked me to repeat the question. I asked Thranduil, but he didn't know. I didn't bother asking Elrohir. There was only one person I could ask who might know for sure. So I ran inside to ring grandma. I sort of forgot that it would be two-thirty in Lórien until grandpa answered he phone sounding groggy and annoyed. Grandma didn't sound much better.  
  
I asked her if it was true that Glorfindel was actually the long-lost son of her older brother, and she said yes. I asked since when. She said, "Since he was born, I'm guessing." I ignored her sarcasm and asked since when had they *known*. She said, "Since Arwen's wedding. It came up in that talk you interrupted." So that's what they were "conferencing" about! They weren't having sex at all! Well, maybe they still were- I wouldn't put it past them. But I asked her how they found out, since Glorfindel's parentage has always been a mystery to everyone (except his mum, I'm guessing). She groaned and said, "It's a long story that would be better off not told in the middle of the night." I thanked her for her time and hung up.  
  
So Glorfindel is really grandma's nephew, and my first cousin once removed, and Gil-galad's second cousin, and Finwë's great-grandson, and therefore the actual legitimate heir to the throne, not just some drunken idiot trying to cash in! Why doesn't anybody ever tell me anything?! Disgusted and annoyed with the whole scenario, I decided that the only reasonable course of action would be to eat a large bowl of ice cream and then go straight to bed. Which is what I did. Though it wasn't exactly straight to bed- I stopped off in the library first to look up a picture of Finrod in one of those fancy books dad likes so much. I suppose Glorfindel does look like him. That only made me more annoyed.  
  
Stupid Glorfindel stupid son of stupid Finrod. Thinks he's so great! Well he wouldn't if *I* were High King of the Noldor. Like I *should* be. Nothing ever works out for me!  
  
August 30th  
  
Glorfindel left for Valinor today. After sleeping on it, I realised that I don't really hate him. He just annoys me sometimes. And I'm glad he's High King and not me. He can deal with all the psycho assassins and Elrohir's peculiar songs of loyal devotion (which might be worse). I'll just continue innocently going to university to get my political science degree so that I can oust him from government with a plebiscite to establish a Noldorin republic.  
  
He stayed over last night. I found him this morning, passed out on the kitchen floor holding half a lemon in one hand and an empty tequila bottle in the other. He was wearing his crown, though his cape had gone missing. Thranduil was a few feet away. He was using a few wadded-up rubber gloves and SOS pads as a pillow. Neither of them looked too happy to be woken up at the ridiculous hour of eleven. But by noon they were both awake and showered and dressed, sitting around the kitchen table discussing the finer points of last night's foolery and planning more foolery for today.  
  
In order to remember everything about his life here, Glorfindel borrowed Erestor's camcorder to do some sort of in-depth video tour of the house. Elrohir was his tour guide, and was able to come up with an amusing anecdote related to every single room. Even the pantry. He still remembers the time a mouse jumped off the top shelf and landed on his nose when he was seven and had gone to sneak a cookie. The mouse ran under the sink and dad had to catch it with a minnow net. I'm not sure why Glorfindel would want to capture the stunning aesthetic of the pantry to cherish for always on Mini-DV, but he did.  
  
It took over two hours to tape the entire house and surrounding yard. It was sort of a sad time. After the whole thing was done, Elrohir burst into tears and wailed that he was worried he'd never see Glorfindel again. It took Thranduil and Erestor fifteen minutes to get him to quit clinging. He continued sniffling all through lunch while dad and Erestor talked about their own moving plan, to be implemented sometime within the next few years, and Glorfindel talked about how great Valinor is and how glad he is to be going back. Makes me wonder why he ever left in the first place.  
  
Ever-practical dad asked, "Do you have your ticket?" Glorfindel said, "Of course I do," and patted his pocket. Then he got a funny look on his face. He looked in his pocket. The ticket was missing. Panic. Elrohir was displaying a suspiciously smug grin. Glorfindel turned to him and asked, "What did you do?" to which Elrohir ingeniously replied, "You can't leave if you don't have your ticket." Glorfindel, obviously not in the mood for pranks, picked up Elrohir rather violently by his shirt collar. "Elrohir," he said, "I have been waiting for this day for the past 7431 years, and I'm sure not going to allow my plans to return to my home country to be ruined by *you*!" He looked capable of murder in that moment. Elrohir wisely handed over the ticket. He was not allowed to touch Glorfindel during the goodbyes, only wave forlornly from three feet away.  
  
And that was that. There was a goodbye hug, a promise of emails, and then we all stood on the front step and watched Glorfindel drive off to the airport. He's been part of my family since I was born, and now he's somewhere over the ocean on his way to Tol Eressëa. It's possible I won't ever see him again, which seems strange to think about.  
  
Everyone was pretty much depressed for the rest of the day. Dad and Erestor sat at the kitchen table drinking tea. Dad got out a jigsaw puzzle, but they were too sad to work on it. Thranduil sat with them when he wasn't pacing aimlessly. After a while he got a beer from the pantry, but he was too sad to drink it. Elrohir went and sat in the den, but he was too sad to play Nintendo, so he watched television. He vowed to watch only the news for the next 24 hours, to be sure that there was no breaking report of Glorfindel's plane crashing into the ocean or anything. I mostly drifted between sitting with dad and Erestor at the table and sitting with Elrohir in the den. It didn't feel right to be doing anything worthwhile.  
  
Spirits were lifted briefly when we ordered in pizza for supper, but the joy only lasted about ten minutes. Then the depression returned. I'm going to have to write stupid Glorfindel an email to make sure he knows just how miserable he's making everybody.  
  
August 31st  
  
Dad is worried. Thranduil doesn't show any sign of leaving. Rather, he appears to be making himself very comfortable in Arwen's old room. I was sent to ask him in a friendly-like manner when he's planning on going back to Mirkwood, but all he would say was "I had to book my trip for at least a week in order to get the best airfare deal." So that means he'll be here for another five days, if not longer.  
  
Dad wasn't happy to hear that, since Elrohir and I are leaving for uni tomorrow and he'll be forced to entertain Thranduil on his own. He rubbed his forehead aggravatedly and said, "I *know* he's Glorfindel's friend, and I *know* that in theory he's not so bad, but somehow I just can't bring myself to *like* him." I asked if this was because Thranduil insists on calling him "Peredhel" instead of "Elrond". Dad said, "Maybe..." in such a way that indicated this was the exact problem or at least a large part of it. I pointed out that he has it better off than Erestor, whose name Thranduil never uses. Erestor just gets called "hey you Noldo!" most of the time. That didn't seem to cheer him up much.  
  
September 1st  
  
School starts tomorrow. I don't feel ready. Maybe because I'm still here in Rivendell. I'll be in the Grey Havens in six hours though, so I'm hoping I feel more school-ready when I get there. The plane leaves at four and crosses over three time zones, so it'll still be four when I arrive. My suitcases are packed and ready to go by the garage door. That's not counting the three boxes of stuff I need to get dad to send to me on the bus. Elrohir's things are sort of in a pile next to mine. He's not even going to try to close the suitcases until the last possible minute, to minimise strain on the zips.  
  
We had a last family lunch together at noon: dad, Elrohir, Erestor, Thranduil and I. Erestor fancied it to be quite the swanky affair. He'd taken the time to melt cheddar onto Triscuits in the microwave instead of just using Cheez Whiz. That didn't make much of an impression on dad, though, who was still in bad shape from Glorfindel leaving and Thranduil staying. As he stared down at his plate, I could almost hear him thinking about how to cope with the next eight months of only having Erestor around. From the look of things, that thought didn't do much to cheer him up. All the Beach Boys CDs and Trivial Pursuit parties in the world don't make up for having your entire family stolen by air transport.  
  
Though I suppose there's always the telephone. Which reminds me, I haven't spoken to Arwen in weeks. Maybe I ought to ring her. Not that she's gone out of her way to contact me, I might point out. Maybe I'll just send her a postcard from the Grey Havens. She'll need something to take her mind off Aragorn. He can be a bit of a handful. I'm putting my bet in now that the marriage lasts two years, tops. 


	3. The Elladan Show 3

September 6th  
  
The first week of classes is now over, and I'm not insane yet. So with any luck, I'll live through this semester. My History 340 course (the middle class in early Númenor) is the most boring thing I can imagine, except for maybe Poli Sci 412 (modern political philosophy of Mirkwood). Poli Sci 434 (politics and the media) at least looks halfway interesting; we watched some newsreels last class, and I hope it doesn't get any more difficult than that. Poli Sci 441 (Elven governments in world politics) has a frightening syllabus that includes reference to a 30-page term paper, but at least the professor seems like fun. Then there's Conversational Quenya 300, which is pretty much like the title says, only Elrohir's in that class and he's loud. And I think he might be better than me, which causes some worry. He can't read or write in proper Quenya worth a hill of beans, but he can carry off a perfect conversation.  
  
Speaking of Elrohir, he's getting homesick for his iguana. He's telephoned dad every night so far to make sure he's feeding it and handling it lovingly. Dad said he doesn't mind the feeding part, but he's a bit afraid to touch it so he leaves the handling to Erestor. Last night Elrohir made Erestor hold the iguana up to the phone so it could hear his voice over the line. He was very disappointed when Erestor told him the iguana didn't react at all. Dad had to find the cat and scratch its ears until it purred loud enough for Elrohir to hear just to make up for the apathetic iguana's lack of courtesy.  
  
I don't think anything else worth mentioning happened all week. I got most of my stuff unpacked, except for a few things that won't fit. They went sort of wadded-up under my bed. I have no idea where I'm going to put the stuff dad's sending on the bus. Elrohir's stuff didn't fit in his room either. He came over on Tuesday to see if he could put some of his clothes in my closet just as I was opening the door to go ask the same of him. We both agreed that dorm rooms 3 meters by three meters squared just aren't big enough. Then he invited me to his room-warming party. I wandered over briefly (he lives four doors down) but was unable to fit inside since there were already five other people in there.  
  
Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure Elrohir's been having a party in his room every night this week. Tuesday was the room-warming party, Wednesday was the secretive drinking party, Thursday was a pyjama party (with secretive drinking), and Friday was another secretive drinking party. He's not having a party tonight, though, on account of how there's a Welcome Week Cabaret in the Uni Centre multipurpose room. The cabaret theme is "Second Age Disco Casual". I have absolutely no desire to go. I don't look good at all in flared trousers and polyester shirts with huge collars.  
  
September 7th  
  
I ended up going to the cabaret. Elrohir showed up at my door at quarter past eleven, just as I was in the middle of marking important dates on my calendar. He wouldn't leave. I tried ignoring him for a while, but Elrohir is a very difficult person to ignore. He bounced on my bed while shouting "What're you doing now? What're you doing now? What're you doing now?" until I gave up and agreed to go down to the cabaret. That involved first going to his room and being dressed in a ridiculous Second Age-type outfit. I looked an awful lot like Erestor in old photos. Elrohir later informed me that he'd stolen the clothes out of Erestor's closet a few years back for a different uni cabaret and he never bothered to return them.  
  
Now uni cabarets are not in fact "cabarets" in the best sense of the word. They're more like a room full of students drinking on school property while a DJ plays. Really, like a high school dance with alcohol. Lots of alcohol. It was pretty much a room full of drunken students wearing their parents' old clothes and dancing to the Bee Gees. Elrohir fit right in, being tipsy himself and wearing a shirt that I recognised as one of dad's that somehow worked its way into the dressups. He danced with one hand pointing into the air and the other hand firmly around his Rev.  
  
I mostly stood along the walls and pretended to be really interested in my paralyser. I recognised all of two people there: one loud girl from PSCI 412 named Cerithwen, and a guy from PSCI 434. I think his name is Aerthos. He sort of smiled and waved at me from across the room. I was too stupid to do anything more than smile and wave back. Thus I spent the entire cabaret standing by myself, except for one song when Elrohir forced me to dance. I had to wait until three before he was ready to stumble back to the residence. And to think I could have spent that time checking my email or something useful!  
  
September 9th  
  
Aerthos smiled and waved at me in class today. He sits on the opposite side of the room. I smiled and waved back. Nothing further came of the encounter. If the same thing happens on Thursday, I might have to suspect that he's interested in getting to know me or something, and not just smiling and waving in a "hey I saw you at that dumb cabaret on Saturday" sort of way.  
  
September 11th  
  
He smiled and waved again. I smiled and waved back again. I'm sure this must mean something.  
  
September 12th  
  
I am starting to severely dislike Conversational Quenya 300. The professor seems to be under the impression that since Elrohir and I are twins, we must want to do pair work together instead of with other (less insane) members of the class. And everything is done in pairs. Today's assignment, due on Monday, is to write a two-page interview to be performed in front of the class. What I'm going to interview Elrohir about is anyone's guess. The only topics on which I'd trust his authority are Nintendo games and iguanas. Possibly also skateboards.  
  
We were supposed to get together tonight after supper to work on the assignment, but since I saw Elrohir wandering down the corridor an hour ago wearing his swimmers, I somehow don't think he's going to remember.  
  
September 15th  
  
The Conversational Quenya interview was a disaster. For me, at least. I'm sure Elrohir's going to get a great mark on it. Which only heightens my irritation.  
  
We did no planning whatsoever, unless you count Elrohir finally coming round to my room at ten last night to say, "Yeah, you just write out some questions and I'll answer them with whatever I think of." That didn't give me much to go on, so in retaliation I wrote out fifteen intellectual questions on the topic of world politics in the present and foreseeable future. It seemed like a good idea at the time.  
  
Elrohir showed up for class carrying a large bag full of what turned out to be costume items. When our turn came to perform, he pulled out a velour cape and his cheap blond wig and announced to the class that he would be playing the role of Finarfin for this interview. I was suddenly very sorry I'd chosen to do a political interview, because that actually made sense. In hindsight, it would have been far more interesting to interview "Finarfin" about lizards and skateboarding. Trust Elrohir to foil my scheme without even trying or knowing.  
  
He answered each question flawlessly. Of course his answers were completely made-up and probably way off the mark in terms of what Finarfin would actually say, but I'll bet nobody cared about that. They were all too impressed with the fact that he "knew his lines so well". I didn't bother to mention that he was improvising as we went along, because that would have only impressed them further and made me look even worse. And I was pretty awful already. Elrohir's irritatingly sensible answers shook my concentration and made me forget what I was supposed to say, so I had to keep looking down at the paper.  
  
It's not that I really mind Elrohir being good at something. It's just I don't like him being better than *me*. Especially when there are witnesses.  
  
September 16th  
  
There was more smiling and waving from Aerthos today, though this time there was also a nod that was distinctly of the "hey how's it going" variety. I think that might count as progress.  
  
Also, dad finally sent my box of stuff. I had to walk down to the bus depot to collect it (it took forty minutes) and take a taxi back (no way was I walking with that box), but at least now I have my DVD and CD collections which will, in theory, make my dorm room more entertaining. Also my dumb Noldo costume to wear to the Fiommereth Formal, though it was mostly in there for padding. I also noticed that dad had stuck in a few extra things (probably to fill the box), which was a nice thought. Though when I'll ever need a half-empty jar of seafood sauce and four tea towels is anyone's guess.  
  
September 17th  
  
We got our marks back for the Quenya interview. Elrohir got ten out of ten. I got six and a half. That just doesn't seem fair somehow.  
  
September 18th  
  
Aerthos was standing by the classroom door today. He said, "Hey," as I passed. I said, "Hey" back. We had a brief and intellectually stunning conversation that went something like this:  
  
Him: So, you were at that cabaret last Saturday?  
Me: Yeah, my brother wanted to go. I'm not really into that stuff.  
Him: Yeah, me neither, I just went with my roommate.  
Me: Oh yeah, cool.  
Him: Yeah.  
Me: So, uhhh...  
Him: Guess we'd better sit down, class is about to start.  
Me: Yeah, I guess.  
  
Then I sat in my place and he sat in his, and that was that. I hung around the doorway after class to see if he'd stop and talk again, but he went to ask the prof a question. I felt like a dork waiting around for more than five minutes, so I left without talking to him again.  
  
September 21st  
  
The first of the toga parties has come and gone. I thankfully managed to avoid it. I did view some of the festivities from a safe distance, though. It was being held in the residence lounge area on our floor; Elrohir and some others had pushed the sofas against the walls to make room for toga fun. Then they all dressed up in bed sheets and acted like goofs until three in the morning. I'm sure the people on the floor below mustn't have been impressed with all the noise. And to make things worse, I think Elrohir is planning on making this a regular feature of residence life. The last thing I heard before I snuck away was,  
  
Elrohir: Next time we need to smuggle some beer past the floor monitor!  
Random guy in navy toga: I'm the floor monitor.  
Elrohir: Can we smuggle beer past you?  
Random guy: Yeah, that's cool.  
  
I'll have to remember to be too busy to attend that one too.  
  
September 22nd  
  
Naturally, I am paired with Elrohir for another lame Quenya assignment. This one, which the prof introduced as "fun", involves us pretending to be on a television show. It doesn't matter what show, so long as everything's performed in Quenya. I just know Elrohir has some crazy idea. I saw his face light up the minute the prof announced the topic. I'm having one of those "I don't want to be part of this" premonitions.  
  
We have a week to work on it this time, but knowing Elrohir, he'll keep putting off doing his part of the work until Sunday night. Actually I probably will too. I'm starting to hate this class.  
  
September 23rd  
  
I had another brief conversation with Aerthos before class today. I told him I liked his shirt. He smiled and told me he just bought it two weeks ago, on sale for 25% off. According to an article called "Ten Ways To Tell He's Interested" I read in one of Arwen's girl magazines once, it's a good sign when he mentions where/how he acquired the shirt instead of just saying "thanks". Surely this means something?  
  
September 24th  
  
I had a rather intimate dream involving Aerthos last night. I'm pretty sure I know what it means. I think I might be in love with him. Or at least lust. And to be honest, either would be more than welcome right now. I haven't gotten lucky since February, and that was with Ardlor of all people. I need a new boyfriend. One who isn't Erestor. One who is actually close to my age and has some common interests.  
  
I will have to talk to him tomorrow and maybe ask him out for some sort of coffee-like activity. Or ask him over here to study for the PSCI 434 test next week. That might be a better plan. Then it's not actually a date. Not that he knows of, at least.  
  
September 25th  
  
I think this has been the best day of the semester so far. I talked to Aerthos, but not exactly in the context I was thinking of last night. Not that I'm complaining. Actually, it all went far better than I had hoped.   
  
After class, as I was leaving to go over to the Uni Centre food court, Aerthos ran up and asked me if I was going for lunch. I said "yes". He said, "Cool, I was just going to get pizza. I'll come with you."   
  
He bought vegetarian pizza (I hope he's not another Glorfindel), I bought a turkey sandwich, and we sat together in the trendy coffee-shop part of the food court where there are fancy lights on the wall and the tables are round. Mostly we talked about class, but the conversation eventually moved on to general getting-to-know-each-other stuff. His parents live in Forlond, and he has no brothers or sisters. I told him he's lucky, and informed him of the perils of Elrohir and Arwen. He said he's seen Arwen on telly a few times, and dad too. Then he asked if it was ever weird being part of such a famous family. I had to say no, since I don't really know any other sort of life- it seems normal for television crews to show up a few times a year to tape dad giving some dumb speech. Though I guess it has taken some of the magic away from the concept of celebrity. I just know that no matter how perfect he looks on television, off-camera Ingwë is probably just like dad, doing crossword puzzles on the biff and having late fines at the video store.  
  
Aerthos laughed and said he couldn't imagine the legendary Elrond doing crossword puzzles or even going to the biff. I assured him that the legendary Elrond was far more normal than people care to think, and told him about the time dad locked his keys in the car and waited around for half an hour for EAA to show up before he realised he'd left the passenger side unlocked. Also about the time we were at the beach and a dragonfly ate a spider off of his head without him even knowing. And about his wearing loud, small swim shorts and singing along with the Beach Boys while he vacuums the pool.  
  
At this, Aerthos got a look of divine inspiration and said that we should do a project on the secret lives of politicians for 434. The choice is to either write a term paper or do a class-presentation project, so why not use my tabloid-worthy knowledge and have some fun? I agreed that this sounded like a good idea. The world needs to know that Elrond isn't as grand as they make him out to be on the evening news. Or at least the class needs to know. That might be better. Dad will probably be less mad at me for showing twenty people how lame he is, as opposed to six billion.  
  
In any case, I think this means that Aerthos and I are together for doing this project. I have a legitimate reason to talk to him now, and ask for his phone number. Maybe even invite him over late at night. For special class project purposes, of course. Which reminds me, my Quenya assignment with Elrohir is due tomorrow. Maybe I should start on my part of that and assume he's forgotten about his.  
  
September 26th  
  
Elrohir came by my room very late last night, right as I was finishing playing pinball and about to get started on the Quenya. He was carrying some papers. He said, "Here, I'm done the assignment, these are your lines you have to learn for tomorrow," and he handed me a script. It felt sort of weird for Elrohir to have done all the work, but since it was midnight and I hadn't done anything yet, I didn't really care.  
  
I looked over the script. It called for me to be a news anchor in Tirion while he was a foreign correspondent in Valmar reporting on the festivities for Ingwë's birthday. It seemed structurally sound. Also structurally idiotic, but at least it was done so I couldn't really complain. And Elrohir had more lines than I, which was good. I just had to ask him questions about the situation and pretend to be interested.  
  
Of course Elrohir wore his blond wig and some makeshift Vanya outfit (which looked an awful lot like a bathrobe over a backwards track suit) for the in-class performance today. I just wore a black sport coat that I thought looked rather news-anchorish. All in all, it went very well. Much better than the interview. I remembered all my lines, and the prof congratulated us on a "first-rate effort" afterward. She commended Elrohir on his impressive Vanyarin accent and dialect. Then she turned to me and said, "And that's a very professional suit, Elladan. You do look like a news anchor." Which is better than nothing, I guess.  
  
September 28th  
  
I spent the weekend mostly watching DVDs and kicking myself for not asking Aerthos for his phone number on Thursday. I'm sure we could've gotten around to doing lots of schoolwork-related activities over the past two days. Or maybe just doing-related activities of the non-schoolwork variety. That would've been fine by me, really.  
  
September 29th  
  
We got the marks for the Quenya project back today. I got nine out of ten, which was a relief. Elrohir got eleven out of ten. I'm not entirely sure how that's even possible. Our prof must've failed the unit on fractions and percentages back in grade three.  
  
September 30th  
  
Aerthos was not in class today. My hopes of actually asking for his phone number were crushed. I spent another evening alone at the computer. I'm getting really good at Minesweeper.  
  
October 2nd  
  
Aerthos was not in class today either. I am starting to worry. It would be highly unlikely that he was just a figment of my rather desperate imagination, but the way my life has been going lately, I wouldn't be too surprised if that turned out to be the case. I hope he's back on Tuesday. I need something to agonise over, and schoolwork just doesn't seem interesting enough this term.  
  
October 4th  
  
The phone rang shortly after six this morning. It was Arwen. She doesn't seem to understand the concept of time zones, nor the fact that it's several hours earlier here than in Minas Tirith.  
  
She started off thanking me for the nice postcard I sent, which in truth I had completely forgotten about. I think I wrote something vague like, "Dear Arwen, having a great time and thinking of you here in the Grey Havens." But Arwen loves getting mail. Really, she loves anything that indicates people are paying attention to her. So I naturally started off asking about how her new married life is going.   
  
For the first ten minutes, she praised Aragorn about this, that and the other thing, saying how he's so sweet and considerate and adorable. But gradually the complaints came out. Her main grievance was that she couldn't understand how somebody like Aragorn, who is used to pooping in the woods, could possibly go through nearly an entire toilet roll per day. Their toilet roll budget is hovering around $10 a week. She banged on about this for a good twenty minutes, down to the last detail. She has it worked out that she goes to the biff an average of four times per day, and uses an average of eleven squares per go. There are four hundred squares on a roll, so even considering that Aragorn eats more and maybe goes to the biff five times per day, using fifteen squares per go, they shouldn't between the two of them go through more than an average of 119 squares per day, or 30% of a roll. And that's not even taking into consideration that she's only been monitoring toilet roll usage for their en-suite bathroom and that Aragorn could very well be going in other bathrooms around the house too. Also that he is a man and doesn't really need toilet roll at all when he pees. The whole situation is rather perplexing.  
  
I listened to her complain about that and other stuff (he leaves stubble in the basin after trimming his beard, his toenails are long and pokey, he sometimes forgets to brush his teeth before bed when he's had meat lover's pizza for supper). Slowly it dawned on me that she needs a hobby to take her mind off of Aragorn's shortfalls. I think I'll have to send her a book on knitting or something.   
  
By twenty after eight she had more or less talked herself out, so I let her go with a promise that I'd send her another postcard sometime. Then I climbed back into bed, but I kept having dreams about Aragorn on the toilet, so I got up again and played Minesweeper for a while before it was time to go for breakfast. Next time Arwen rings, I'll let her complain to Elrohir.  
  
October 5th  
  
Entirely uneventful weekend. I didn't even see Elrohir around at all. The most exciting thing that happened to me was that I beat the medium level on Minesweeper. I rang dad but nothing too interesting was happening in Rivendell either. He and Erestor were having a fight over alleged defamation in front of the dishwasher repairman. Apparently Erestor had put Dawn liquid in the dishwasher instead of Cascade liquid, causing much foam all over the kitchen floor and a burned-out dishwasher motor. When the repairman asked who put the wrong soap in, Erestor said, "Elrond did it." The repairman gave dad a "look". Dad was so upset over being wrongfully embarrassed that he hasn't spoken to Erestor since.  
  
About two hours later Erestor rang to inform me that though it had been he who put the wrong liquid in the dishwasher, it was actually dad's fault since he refilled the Cascade bottle with Dawn and neglected to tell Erestor of the switch. I made sure to thank him for taking time out of his busy schedule to tell me this.  
  
October 6th  
  
I ended up skipping Conversational Quenya today in favour of playing Minesweeper. I'm sure Elrohir will tell me what I missed. I only left my room twice all day, for lunch and supper. I didn't really want to leave the computer, my usage of which is starting to reach potentially harmful proportions. I'm starting to feel a sense of loss whenever I turn it off.  
  
October 7th  
  
Aerthos is back! His cousin Gwethaer was getting married last week, he said, so his entire family flew to Dol Amroth for the wedding. We talked for nearly an hour in the corridor after class. I forgot to ask him for his number though. I think I might be stupid.  
  
October 9th  
  
I forgot again. Actually, that's not quite true. I had the thought to ask for his number lingering in the back of my mind. But the opportune moment never came. Then he left in a hurry to catch the bus. This isn't going very well at all.  
  
October 10th  
  
The Conversational Quenya prof has assigned our final project. It's in groups of four this time, so Elrohir and I are working with two dunces named Talathuir and Nova. Talathuir is from Mirkwood and can't speak Quenya to save his life, and Nova is just sort of dumb overall. The most interesting thing about her is that her parents claim she was conceived in the back of a Chevy Nova (hence the peculiar name).  
  
All three of us quickly agreed that Elrohir should be in charge of planning everything. Elrohir agreed to this as well. I don't even want to think about what he has in mind. As long as I get a good mark, it'll all be fine by me.  
  
October 12th  
  
I'm sure I would have had an interesting weekend if I would've remembered to ask Aerthos for his phone number.  
  
Arwen rang this morning to say that she was on the cover of Vanity Fair, then grandma rang to say the same thing, then dad. I pretended I was happy for her. Dad also told me that Erestor was awarded second prize in a limerick contest from Home Depot. He won a windsock shaped like a fish. Then later Elrohir said he saw the weatherman from channel seven in the uni bookshop.  
  
Exciting stuff happens to everyone but me!  
  
October 13th  
  
I think Monday the 13th must be just as unlucky as Friday. First, I forgot to set my alarm, so I didn't wake up in time to shower before Conversational Quenya. We had a test in class, too. When I finally did get time to shower, first I forgot my shampoo. Then when I went back to get my shampoo I must've left my towel on my bed. I had to get dressed soaking wet to walk back to my room, then rush to dry off and get dressed again when I saw the time. In PSCI 412 I got my tangled damp hair caught on a screw in the back of my chair somehow. I had to wait until the end of class for the prof to get out his scissors and free me. I breathed a sigh of relief to finally get back to my room, then promptly stubbed my toe on my desk chair.  
  
But the crowning turd on this dung-heap of a day came when Elrohir stopped by to inform me that, in a fit of Nintendo-induced excitement, he'd spilled an entire can of Fresca on his mattress and needs to share my room while it dries. I will surely go crazy. I go crazy sharing a *bedroom* with him, let alone a *single bed*.  
  
October 14th  
  
I got little sleep last night due to- who else!- Elrohir. For the first hour he talked about bugs and spiders while eating Pringles and getting crumbs in the sheets. For the second hour he poked my face and kept asking, "Are you asleep?" When he finally dozed off, he breathed through pursed lips and made a high-pitched whistling noise. After twenty minutes of that I felt like tearing my ears off, so something had to be done. As carefully as possible I tried to roll him onto the floor, but he sort of landed with a thud and woke up. He looked around blearily for a moment before asking, "Where did all the people go?" I pretended to be asleep. He climbed back into bed. Within ten minutes he was whistling again. I must've eventually fallen asleep because I woke up some time later when his arm reached under my pillow. To retrieve some secret Oreos he'd stashed there, he explained.  
  
When I woke up this morning I had a crashing headache and a piece of my hair was in Elrohir's mouth, covered in slime and Oreo crumbs. I got dressed, went to class, and spent the next several hours contemplating how to dispose of him. It wasn't until I got back to my room that I realised I hadn't spoken to Aerthos at all. And with my luck, he probably thinks I'm ignoring him now! This is just great! And entirely Elrohir's fault!  
  
October 15th  
  
This morning I awoke to Elrohir colouring on my shoulder with a Jiffy marker. Unable to hold back the rage any longer, I punched him in the groin. He started giggling. I pulled back the blankets to see what was so funny, since I hit him pretty hard and I'd hoped he'd at least say "ow". He was wearing about ten pairs of trousers, all of them mine. I punched him in the stomach instead. He fell out of bed and started rolling around on the floor laughing like an idiot. I ended up having to wrestle with him just to steal back a pair of jeans so I could get dressed for class. I also kicked him several times for good measure while he was rolling.  
  
He was still on the floor when I returned, though he had stopped rolling. He was unwrapping Kraft caramels and smushing them into an enormous wad to eat at a later date. Sometimes I really, really wonder what it must be like to be Elrohir. Does he know he's an idiot, or is he too blissfully ignorant to figure that out?  
  
October 16th  
  
Last night I went to Elrohir's room to check out his mattress. It went "squish". I think he might've spilled more than a can of Fresca on there. But I gathered up the non-Fresca-covered blankets and hauled them back to my room, along with his pillow. Then I proceeded to make a nest for Elrohir in the hidey-hole under my desk. It was just big enough for him to curl up in. He was thrilled. I was likewise thrilled to have him out of my bed. I actually managed to get a decent sleep, and Elrohir was still sleeping soundly when I got up to go to class. With any luck, he'll stay asleep until his mattress is dry.  
  
I made sure to let Aerthos know that I wasn't ignoring him today. He seemed a bit distant though. I hope he's not upset over my near-homicidal behaviour on Tuesday.  
  
October 18th  
  
Elrohir is still living in the hidey-hole, though he's made a few "improvements". His nest now has a radio, a snack stash, and a picture of a lizard from a Telus ad he printed off the internet. I'm starting to worry that he won't want to move out once his mattress is dry. Such things are a real danger when dealing with Elrohir.  
  
October 19th  
  
It is becoming increasingly difficult to use the computer with Elrohir living under my desk. He keeps tickling my ankle and telling me it's a spider. I've not played Minesweeper in over 48 hours. Which I suppose is a good thing. Maybe Elrohir does have a few convoluted, roundabout uses after all.  
  
October 20th  
  
Talathuir and Nova came by after supper to work on our Quenya project. It was a bit cramped with four of us in my room, so we went to the library. We managed to accomplish the following:  
  
1) Talathuir will play the role of a tourist from Mirkwood who can't speak Quenya.  
2) Nova will be a voice that is heard only over the telephone.  
3) I will be the narrator.  
4) Elrohir will have exponentially more lines than anyone else.  
  
We still don't know what this project will be about, other than that a tourist from Mirkwood is somehow involved. We're having another meeting on Friday. Hopefully something will be decided by then, since this is due in one month and we really need to get started. It's worth 35% of our final grade.  
  
October 21st  
  
I just realised that all of my term projects and papers are due in less than a month. Including my media project with Aerthos. I really should get around to asking him for his number instead of just acting casually disinterested as overcompensation for my fear that he'll think I'm too eager and desperate (which I am, but I can't let him know that). That approach is getting me nowhere.  
  
October 23rd  
  
Still nowhere. Crap! Though on the plus side, I got started on my history term paper. I now have a topic and a vague mental outline of what I might think about doing.  
  
October 24th  
  
Elrohir is having another toga party tonight. He's wearing his spare sheet. He offered to lend me his main sheet to wear, since mine is (very unfortunately) hideously jewel-toned and completely inappropriate. However, as I'm not too keen on wearing a sticky Fresca sheet as a toga and acting like a moron among people I don't know and don't like, I think I might have to pass.  
  
October 26th  
  
I woke up early this morning to Elrohir shifting around and dropping things. It was six o'clock. He had just realised, after a cryptic dream, that he can *flip his mattress over* and use the non-sticky side, so he was going back to his own room. He didn't explain why he was doing so right then instead of waiting until a decent time. And I didn't really care. I was just glad to have him gone. His antics drive me mad. And everything he does can be reasonably classified as "antics".  
  
Since I was already up, and it was later in Rivendell, I decided to ring dad. I figured he'd be awake, so naturally I was a bit surprised when a sleepy voice came over the line. It was Erestor. I asked him if dad was up. He said, "Just a second..." Then I distinctly heard him say in the background, "It's for you," before dad came on a second later. Something wasn't right there. But I chatted with dad for a few minutes anyhow. It was only several minutes later, after I'd hung up, that I realised the only way for dad and Erestor to be a) asleep and b) within an arm's reach of each other was if they WERE IN BED TOGETHER!!!  
  
I rang back straight away. Erestor answered again. I asked, "Are you in bed with my dad?!" I heard him say "Nnnnrrrr..." and heard something that sounded rather like him flopping backward onto pillows before dad picked up. Again I asked, "Are you two in bed together?!" to which dad groggily said, "Look, I'm too tired to talk about this now- I'll ring you back in a few hours." He never did.  
  
All I can say is that I'm shocked and appalled! Dad! And ERESTOR!!! That's just wrong on every conceivable level! I mean, dad and anybody is pretty wrong, but Erestor?!  
  
I went to tell Elrohir, but he just sort of nodded and said, "Dude, that's weird," without even looking up from the Playstation. I didn't try for a better response. Though on my way out I noted that he'd flipped up his mattress into sort of a tent against the wall. He's probably planning to sleep under it just for the novelty.  
  
October 28th  
  
I was close to asking Aerthos for his number today but visions of dad and Erestor kept interrupting my concentration. The fact that I've seen Erestor naked before sure wasn't helping matters any. As a result, the best I got was a plan to meet after class on Thursday to discuss the project.  
  
October 29th  
  
I think Nova has a crush on Elrohir. After class today she asked me if he's seeing anyone. I said, "Only Potpourri in Harvest Moon." She gave me a blank stare. "It's a game," I said. "One in which you have to run a farm and marry one of the town girls." She continued giving me a blank stare. "A video game," I said. More blank stare. "For Nintendo." She raised an eyebrow in confusion. "He's single and looking," I said. She smiled at that and trotted away.  
  
I didn't have the heart to tell her that if she doesn't know what Nintendo is, she doesn't stand a chance.  
  
Also, I haven't heard back from dad yet on that whole in-bed-with-Erestor situation. I think I'm going to have to assume that he's counting on me forgetting about it. I'll have to ring again early Sunday morning to see if the same thing happens.  
  
October 30th  
  
I am supposed to go to a PoliSci Balathin cabaret tomorrow, though I am somewhat torn. I want to go because Aerthos will be there, and it would be an excuse to talk to him in a non-school-related way. I don't want to go because the only remotely costumey thing I have here is a dumb vampire cape. I want to go because paralysers are on the drink special. I don't want to go because I hate uni cabarets. Maybe I should toss a coin.   
  
Oh, who am I kidding. If Aerthos is going, I'll be there. We talked about it during our brief project meeting today, which, I might add, was dissatisfyingly on-topic, and he said he's going.  
  
October 31st  
  
I am involved in the most peculiar Balathin scheme Elrohir has ever thought up. He is being me. I am being him. For an entire 24 hours. We used to play "switch" all the time when we were little, but never for this long. It's proving to be something of a challenge.  
  
Just before midnight last night, Elrohir banged on my door. Even before I could open it all the way he whispered excitedly, "Elladan I have the best idea ever!" Naturally I started to worry. He went on to explain that for Balathin, we were going to be each other. Switch clothes, switch rooms, switch classes, switch everything, until midnight. I asked him if he thought this was a good idea. He said the plan was flawless. For some reason I didn't trust him. But still, I went along with it.  
  
Some minutes later I was in Elrohir's room getting ready to go to sleep. His floor was so entirely covered with random stuff that I had a hard time getting from the door too the bed. Though the bed really looked more like a nest. There was a heap of disordered blankets and a towel covering his mattress. I tried to sleep without the towel, but I guess he hadn't changed his sheets since the Fresca incident, because they were all sticky. The towel came back, but it was scratchy. As can be imagined, I didn't sleep very well.  
  
Elrohir's Alarm went off at 10-15. Conversational Quenya starts at 10-30. I had just enough time to leap out of bed in horror, throw on the clothes Elrohir had left in a wad on the floor (turned out to be a pirate costume) and grab his backpack before taking off in a mad dash for class. When I got there, Elrohir was already in my seat, hair neatly plaited. He was wearing my best corduroy shirt. He gave me an exasperated look, which is probably exactly what I would have done had he shown up for class five minutes late and crashed into the overhead projector. We ended up having a pop quiz on cases, which is just my luck! The one day we do something I'm good at and Elrohir gets the credit! I got 19 out of 20 for him. He got 13 for me. I can never win in that class.  
  
Next he had Narrative Film Studies in the Education Building auditorium, so I got to go watch a video for two hours and then discuss it. And this counts for three credits! I think I'm taking all the wrong courses. I should be enrolled in some of these movie-watching classes. It ended at five, just in time for supper, so I went back to the residence and headed for the cafeteria. The supper lady gave me an extra bun because I was dressed like a pirate.  
  
I was just about to go get ready for the cabaret when I realised, with some measure of panic, that I am unable to go. I have to go to Elrohir's dumb theatre cabaret, and Elrohir will be going to the PoliSci in my place! And I also realised that Aerthos, mistaking him for me, will be accidentally snubbed and all my chances will be ruined! I ran to my room trying to find Elrohir, but he was nowhere to be found. My cabaret ticket was nowhere to be found. I *know* I left it on the magnet board. This can only mean that he's taken it and intends to go. I have to find him. I know he'll have no fun in a multipurpose room full of PoliSci majors, so it shouldn't be too hard to convince him to give up on our ruse a bit early. I hope...  
  
  



	4. The Elladan Show 4

November 1st  
  
It is slightly past noon. I have just gotten out of bed. Aerthos has just left to go home. I think the whole story needs a once-over.  
  
I hung about the entrance to the PoliSci cabaret last night for a while before it opened, hoping to catch Elrohir before he arrived. I saw neither him nor Aerthos. After about an hour of nothing, it occurred to me that Elrohir might have made for the Theatre cabaret to talk to me. So I went over there. Also no Elrohir. I hung about at that entrance for about twenty minutes before someone, who turned out to be Nova, came and grabbed my arm. I had to dance with her for what seemed like eternity, all the while pretending to be Elrohir and all the while worrying about what was going on over at the PoliSci cabaret (probably chaos, with Elrohir right in the thick if it). Nova kept "accidentally" touching me in inappropriate places.  
  
"You seem a bit distracted," she said. "Is something wrong?" "No no, I'm fine," I said. Then I remembered I had to talk like Elrohir, so I added, "dude." She gave me sort of a funny look. I know I'm not a very good actor, but I had to keep up the charade. I did the first Elrohirish think that popped into my head. "Guess what?" I asked. She blinked and said, "What?" I grinned like an idiot and yelled, "Chicken butt!" This was followed by "Guess why?", "Guess who?", and "Guess how come?", all with answers pertaining to some chicken body part or bodily function. Afterward Nova was sufficiently pleased with my level of Elrohirishness, so we went to go stand in the drinks queue for vodka coolers.  
  
I had to use up so much concentration on being Elrohir that I lost track of the time. It has never occurred to me before just how much energy he must go through in a day. No wonder he sleeps so much. When I finally thought to check my watch, it was three minutes past midnight. I quickly excused myself, telling Nova I had to go find "Elladan" for a minute, and promised I'd be back. Then I took off running from the theatre building to the Uni Centre. I arrived to the very welcome sight of Elrohir standing around outside the multipurpose room looking bored. He was wearing my vampire cape. "I want to change back into me now," he said. "Your social life sucks." I had no complaints about that suggestion, so we headed for the gents' toilets.  
  
Once we had switched clothes and officially changed back into ourselves, I briefed Elrohir on the Nova situation, including a list of all the jokes I'd gone through (Guess what/chicken butt, knock knock/who's there/grape, owah tagoo siam, and so forth). He should be able to pick it up from there. Then I asked him what he did all evening. He said, "Not much," and shrugged. "Just hung out, looked at people. You know, stuff. Oh yeah, and I kissed that dude over there." Shocked, I spun around to see who he was gesturing to and almost fainted when I saw Aerthos standing at the end of the corridor sort of waving lamely at me. I would have grabbed Elrohir and made him explain everything in excruciating detail, but he was already off and running to his own cabaret to tell more lame jokes to Nova. I had no choice but to try to go along with his severely inadequate information.  
  
Thus, doing the most logical thing I could think of, I walked over to Aerthos. And since my head was already spinning and my hands were shaking and I figured I might as well apply all this nervousness to a worthy cause, I kissed him right there in the corridor. He didn't yell or run away or anything, which was good. He did look a bit surprised, but in a smiley good way. "What was that for?" he asked. "No reason," I said. Then, since the kiss had gone well and thought I might as well try my luck, I asked, "Do you want to get out of here?" He smiled and said, "Sure. Where do we go?" I decided to keep pressing my luck. "I live in the Mindon Residence- really close. We could go there and watch a movie or something." "Cool," he said with a nod.  
  
When we got back to my room, he looked over the DVD collection while I changed out of the clothes that Elrohir picked and into something that doesn't need to be ironed. He picked Star Wars to watch, which seemed like a logical choice because we'd both probably seen it fifty times before and by that point we both knew we wouldn't be paying much attention to the movie. I think we stopped watching sometime around when the Princess' ship is picked up by Darth Vader's.   
  
All was well until around three, when just as we were drifting off to sleep, the door opened. Elrohir peeked in. He waved to Aerthos and said "Hi" before asking, "Do you have any thingies?" "What thingies?" I asked. "You know," he said. "Those thingies that you use." I got out of bed and went to the door. "What exactly do you want?" I asked. "*Thingies*" he repeated, more urgently. I looked toward his door. Nova was standing there, giggling. "OH," I said in a voice somewhat louder than was necessary, "you mean CONDOMS." "Yeah," he said. "Those thingies."  
  
"No," I said, "I'm not Glorfindel. Try asking the machine in the biff. It sells them." He sort of nodded and was about to walk away, but then he turned back and asked, "Do you have some change I could borrow?" I slammed the door and propped my desk chair up against it, just in case. When I got back into bed Aerthos was laughing. "Your brother's adorable," he said. I had to assure him that Elrohir is not adorable- he's exasperating. We argued over whether Elrohir is adorable or exasperating for the next few hours before finally getting to sleep.  
  
And that brings me to now. Overall, the start of this weekend has been very much to my satisfaction. Very much.  
  
November 2nd  
  
I made sure to set the alarm for four this morning so I'd be able to ring dad and see if he's in bed with Erestor again. Given the time difference, it was seven there and still early enough for them to be asleep. At four minutes after four I dialled home, and a few seconds later dad picked up. I asked to speak to Erestor, please. Dad said, "Nrrrjussminnuh..." and passed the phone to Erestor. Erestor said, rather groggily, "Hello?" and I yelled, "WHAT IN THE NAME OF ELBERETH ARE YOU DOING IN BED WITH MY DAD?!"  
  
"Fuck..." he muttered, then hung up the phone without another word. "Fuck" is probably right! And two weekends in a row! I'm not going to let this slip by, no way! I'll keep telephoning every Sunday until they explain things to me.  
  
November 3rd  
  
Dad rang tonight, just as I was about to leave to go wash up and brush my teeth before bed. He started into the explanation straight away, saying, "Look, Elladan, I know this is unexpected but you're going to have to accept it." He then went on to say that he and Erestor have actually been "sort of" together ever since Gil-galad died, though they'd been keeping it a secret from everyone. But, now that mum's gone, Glorfindel's moved away, and Elrohir, Arwen and I are out of the house, they felt it was safe to be a bit more open about it.  
  
So this has been going on for nearly 3020 years and nobody had any idea! And now I'm not supposed to tell anyone. Actually, dad said I can tell Elrohir, because he won't care, but I can't tell Arwen, because it would make her upset. I made him promise he'd eventually tell her, though. He said he would. Someday. Which I take to mean, "many years in the future when she's distracted by screaming children and won't be paying attention." I also asked what he's going to do about mum when he moves to Aman. He said he'd worry about figuring that out when the time came. He has no sense of planning.  
  
Before I went to bed, I told Elrohir about the dad-Erestor situation. Dad was right. He didn't care. I think I'm going to have to tell Aerthos though. This is just too strange not to tell. I don't think dad will mind.   
  
November 4th  
  
Aerthos came by for a meeting after class, which involved a satisfactory combination of fooling around and actually getting work done. We scanned a few photos of dad, Erestor, Glorfindel, grandma, and grandpa onto diskettes to use in a Power Point presentation. Then I rang dad to ask him to send me all the old video tapes and Super 8 reels of home movies he can find, since I need them for a class project. I didn't say what the class project is about. Then, after Aerthos and I decided we had no desire to do any more schoolwork, we sort of watched The Empire Strikes Back.  
  
I made sure to get his telephone number before he left. He wrote it on a piece of masking tape and stuck it to my phone. After he was gone I surreptitiously added it to my memory dial. He's number five, after dad, dad's work, grandma and grandpa, and Arwen.  
  
November 7th  
  
Aerthos and I are going out tonight. When he asked me yesterday if I wanted to go out somewhere tonight, it made me suddenly realise that I've not been off uni property since September when I went to the bus depot to pick up the box dad sent. And that made me realise that my life must be very sad indeed. I should make a point of going out more. Even if it's only to wander around downtown and get leered at by bums.  
  
LATER: I just remembered why I don't like wandering around downtown. Apart from the getting leered at by bums, I mean. In September I tripped over an exceptionally large cobblestone on the way to the bus depot, which caused me to smear mustard from the hotdog I was eating all down the front of my favourite jacket. The jacket still has a mustard stain, since I haven't left uni property to go to the drycleaners yet.  
  
November 8th  
  
I ended up staying over at Aerthos' place last night. He lives in a rental house near the uni with a roommate, who wasn't home. His roommate, I found out, is deeply religious and had gone to some sort of youth group retreat for the terminally self-righteous. I mean, for the weekend. There was a poster of Elbereth in the front room, a little ceramic light-up Elbereth on top of the stereo, one of those country-craft-type wall hangings with a cross-stitch of Elbereth in the corridor to the bathroom, a set of embossed cardboard Valar standees on an end table by the window, and a fibre-optics picture of Taniquetil above the sofa. It was a bit distracting and overbearing in a shameful sort of way, so we had to spend the night hidden in Aerthos' room, well away from Elbereth's melancholy gaze. I think we watched a DVD of Cabaret, but I'm not sure.  
  
Earlier we had tried going out to a restaurant, but that turned out to be less fun than anticipated. Aerthos doesn't have a car, and the only restaurant within walking distance is the crappy pizza place across the parkway from the uni. I had a small cheese pizza, which was thankfully uneventful. Aerthos ordered spaghetti. He found something that looked like a Bic's Yum Yum hidden amongst the noodles. We decided not to stay for dessert and left as soon as possible, which really wasn't very soon at all since our waitress spent a disproportionate amount of time ignoring us while standing in the smoking section having a cigarette with her friends.  
  
So, my adventure out into the beyond-uni world turned out to be no more exciting than any adventure that could theoretically be had on university property. I will have to insist on Aerthos coming over here from now on. My room might be tiny, but at least it's devoid of fibre optics religious art. Plus, the cafeteria here doesn't have smoking waitresses or random gherkins in the pasta.  
  
November 9th  
  
Aerthos stopped by to bring me oranges just as I was writing an email to Glorfindel to tell him about the religious kitsch. He explained that he used to live in residence and knew all about the unsatisfactory fruit supply in Mindon. I was thankful for his concern, but also at the same time a bit worried that maybe he's crazy. I mean really! Who brings anyone oranges?! Has he been taking classes from Elrohir's School of Awesomeness?  
  
Though to be completely fair, he was wearing a tight black shirt. That sort of made up for the peculiar behaviour.  
  
November 10th  
  
The entire Quenya class today was spent working on our group assignment. We have one line of dialogue so far. It goes something like this:  
  
Talathuir: (approaches Elrohir, who is sitting at an information desk) Aiya nildo! Essenya Talatoiron. Utúlien Laitaurello Tol Eressëanna ar lá quetin Quenya.  
  
That's as far as we got before arguments arose over how to properly translate "Talathuir" and "from Mirkwood". I don't care what Elrohir says; trying to get Talathuir to say "Ezellatavazello" just isn't practical or sensible, considering that he can't even say "Quenya" properly. This Vanyarin fascination is becoming a serious hindrance, not only to Elrohir but also potentially to my mark in this class.  
  
November 11th  
(Anniversary of the Defeat of Sauron in the Last Alliance)  
  
My PoliSci 412 term paper is due tomorrow. I awoke in a panic this morning suddenly realising that I'd forgotten completely and hadn't started yet. I think I might be in trouble.  
  
November 12th  
  
I just handed in the term paper, having finished a grand seven minutes before class ended. The prof gave me a dirty look for skipping class and handing it in right at the end, but I don't care. It's done. It's only eight pages long and thoroughly terrible, but at least it's done. I might have to rely on the final to bring my grade up.  
  
Now I am going to go back to the library and get to work on my 441 paper, since it's due on Monday and has to be at least thirty pages. How does this happen?! I spend all semester doing nothing, and now suddenly everything is due next week! I think the speed at which time passes must be directly proportional to the amount of homework due in the immediate future. If I were in physics instead of political science, I would look into that.  
  
November 13th  
  
Aerthos had words with me before class today. Apparently I was supposed to meet him after class on Tuesday, which I skipped in favour of writing my forgotten paper. We were supposed to work on our media project. Now that I think about it, I vaguely remember him saying something to that effect over the weekend. I tried to apologise, but he remained sort of distant all through class. We organised another meeting, though, for tomorrow evening. And none too soon, since we really need to get to work. The project is due in one week and all we have so far is a crappy Power Point presentation of scanned photos and some home movies.  
  
November 14th  
  
It is midnight. Aerthos just left. I was quite impressed by his ability to use Windows Movie Maker, a program which has thus far been present in my Start menu but remained something of an enigma.  
  
It took eight hours, but we managed (occasionally via roundabout ways) to load all the home movies onto my computer and edit them into a four-minute sequence. We even added some music in places. So that, coupled with the five-minute Power Point show, brings our presentation up to nine minutes. We need half an hour by Thursday. I hope the class has a lot of questions to fill up the time.  
  
After our work session, Aerthos left without so much as a goodbye kiss! I think he's still mad at me for skipping on Tuesday. Also perhaps because I told him I couldn't work on the project tomorrow because I have to work on my 441 paper. He is quite selfish, I think. If it were up to him all we'd ever do is go for coffee in the Uni Centre and have sex. Actually if it were up to me, that's all we'd do too. But unfortunately it's up to dad right now, and he's expecting me to pass this semester.  
  
November 16th  
  
I invited Aerthos to come by and work on our project for a while but he said he was busy. I asked busy doing what, but he wouldn't say. I told him I needed relief from the drudgery of slogging through stacks of musty old PoliSci books from forgotten corners of the library, one of which smelled like rotten paint, but he was rather unsympathetic. He'd better be doing actual schoolwork and not just acting like this because he's mad at me!  
  
As soon as I had fifteen pages of my paper written and was officially halfway done, I took a break to go see if Elrohir wanted to go buy sandwiches or something. I knocked on his door and he answered, wearing naught but lime green underoos. I asked why he wasn't dressed, though as soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted it since I knew his answer wouldn't make sense anyway. It didn't. "I work better when I don't have clothes to distract me," he said. I asked what he was working on, and he said, "Quenya." I tried to be worried, but in all honesty I think my relief that somebody was actually getting something done outweighed the concern that it would incorporate a great deal of Vanyarin words and other nonsense.  
  
I decided I'd be best off forgetting about Quenya though and just enjoying my break from the 441 paper. I asked Elrohir if he wanted to go for sandwiches. He said, "Yes!" very enthusiastically and started off down the corridor toward the lifts. If I were a more evil person, which I really wish sometimes, I would have let him go in just his green underwear. But unfortunately I am too nice for my own good, so I called him back and made him get dressed. He pulled on some gym shorts and a mesh shirt. I'm not sure if that was an improvement over the underwear, but I didn't really care so long as he was technically dressed. I followed him down to the cafeteria. I had a nice break listening to him recount the mind-boggling tale of the icy square chocolate he found under the radiator that miraculously wasn't melted. He thinks it might be a religious icon, or perhaps a scientific marvel of the modern age.  
  
When I got back to my room I played two rounds of pinball, two games of Freecell, and looked up random words on Google for a while. I think I should get started on the other half of my term paper soon. It's due in two days and I have fifteen more pages to go.  
  
November 17th  
  
I skipped Quenya in favour of working on my paper. I'm sure I didn't miss anything, and Elrohir's working on the presentation anyway. So my entire day was full of:  
  
_The city-state model outlined by Pengoloð in his analysis of post-war political structures can therefore be clearly traced back to earlier models presented by Rúmil in his Democracy treatise. Rúmil's "Tirion" model, when loosely placed in comparison to later theories forwarded by Pengoloð, is applicable not only to the timeframe in which it was postulated but also to supervening governments with roots, however tenuous, in classical Western theory. With few modifications, both models can be applied successfully to modern-day Mithlond, Imladris, and Lórien as a whole, this being indicative of the potential "universal city-state" as touched briefly upon in The Declining Superpower (ibid. 557)._  
  
I swear that made sense when I wrote it, but now that I look back, I have no idea what in the world I was trying to say. I'm concerned that I might be getting stupider.  
  
November 18th  
  
I finished the paper last night. It's only 28 1/2 pages long, including notes and bibliography, so I hope I don't lose marks. Now I just have to write my history paper tonight (which I very thankfully already have started), then finish the media project with Aerthos for Thursday and work on the Quenya presentation for Friday, and I'll be all set! Somehow that seems like too much work.  
  
Aerthos frowned at me in class today, then afterward came over saying that we really needed to finish the project. I suggested working on it tomorrow. He asked why not tonight, and I explained about the history paper. He scowled and stormed out of the classroom in a huff. I followed close behind. He went into the biff. I still followed. He tried to shut himself into a stall but I followed him there too and gave him a thorough kissing while pressed up against the graffiti-covered metal wall. That seemed to work. He apologised for being a knob and I had the sudden realisation that I can always hand in my history paper a week late and only lose 5%. Funny how kissing in a public toilet can make everything better, even though you'd suspect from its unattractive décor and general level of filthiness that it would offer little in the way of helping.  
  
Anyway he's coming by in about an hour to work on the media project. And by "work on the media project" I really mean "maybe work on the media project, if we remember and can find our clothes."  
  
November 19th  
  
Aerthos stayed over last night. So we could work on the media project until the last possible minute, of course.  
  
It's almost done. Last night we cut together another segment of newsreels to show alongside the home videos, to highlight how different politicians are in real life as opposed to what they appear to be like on television. Then we worked on the script of what we'll say to the class. So tonight all that's left to do is fine-tune the script part and do a run-through of the Power Point. I am feeling quite relieved.  
  
November 20th  
  
We finished the media presentation at eight-twenty last night. That called for a celebration, so we went to Taco Time and had celebratory burritos, with extra sauce. Then we came back to my room and had celebratory smooches as we basked in the glory of having finished the damn assignment on time.  
  
Just before midnight, as we were lying on my bed and sort of watching Return of the Jedi, the door burst open and Elrohir peered inside. I really, really, need to get that keycode changed, since I know that trying to explain to him the courtesy of knocking would be a wasted effort. He looked at us, sort of nodded hello, then proceeded to sit down, turn on my computer, and monkey around with it. I politely asked what in the world he was doing. He said, "Quenya," and kept monkeying. I honestly tried to just stay where I was and let him do his thing, but with each passing second I became more and more convinced that he was about to accidentally delete some critical Windows file. Worry eventually won out and I got up to supervise his computer usage.  
  
"There," he said, pointing to a file he had saved to my desktop, "you'd better learn that by Friday." Then he left as unexpectedly as he had come. I opened the file, and it turned out to be a nine-page-long Word document. I did a quick scan for my name. I have twenty-four lines. I am never going to learn all that in time. I must've made some sort of despairing sound, because Aerthos said, "Just come back to bed and worry about it tomorrow." I did go back to bed, but I kept worrying and couldn't sleep. The last thing I remember before the alarm went off was looking at the clock and seeing 5.53 am. When I finally did get to sleep, I had a stressful dream about Elrohir being run over by a ferris wheel and me having to sell state-of-the-art transparent computers door to door to get enough money to pay for a specialist Hobbit surgeon to reattach his legs after the accident. Then dad started yelling at me for showing orcs the secret path to get into the front yard. Then I woke up, feeling even more exhausted than when I went to bed.  
  
I took Aerthos down to the cafeteria for breakfast and we both apathetically picked over the selection of rubbery eggs and cold toast. There wasn't even any jam left, so we had to have peanut butter. Then I got changed into my fancy Noldo costume for the presentation, and Aerthos borrowed Elrohir's. I'm not sure why we thought this was a good idea. The costumes didn't really make us look more respectable at all- just a bit more ridiculous. Also,Aerthos got his sleeve caught in the security door on the way out of the residence building, and the door made a small black grease smudge on the fabric. I hope Elrohir doesn't notice. These things cost a fortune to dry clean.  
  
But, barring the sleeve mishap, the rest of the day went very well. We went first with our presentation, and the class seemed to enjoy it. Especially the part in the video where dad sat down in a broken lawn chair and dropped his plate of coleslaw all down the front of his shirt. Even the prof laughed out loud at the old super 8 movie of dad and Gil-galad doing tequila shots with Elendil, who was wearing a cowboy hat and had enormous sideburns. I think that's a good sign. After class, Aerthos and I went for lunch, still wearing the Noldo costumes. He dropped a meatball in his lap and got a sauce smudge on the robe. I hope Elrohir doesn't notice that either.  
  
Now the only thing that's left to do this semester is the Quenya presentation. I'm supposed to be meeting with Elrohir, Nova, and Talathuir in the library in an hour. I hope they don't expect me to have this script memorised.  
  
November 21st  
  
It think I can safely say, without any sort of exaggeration, that our Quenya presentation was the best in the class. Elrohir was the star, since he's easily the best out of all of us. He played a confused university student (big stretch there). I played his good conscience, who kept telling him to act responsibly and get his homework done. His bad conscience was played by a television showing a pre-taped video of him telling himself to go out and get drunk every night. Talathuir was an exchange student from Mirkwood who was a bad influence on Elrohir, while Nova was the innocent-girl-next-door type who fought valiantly to keep Elrohir on the right track. Highlights include Elrohir arguing with himself on television, Talathuir playing up his already terrible Silvan accent to hilarious extremes, me hitting Elrohir over the head with a biology textbook, Elrohir and Talathuir's elaborate stage fight (with cardboard Fiommereth wrap tubes painted to look like lightsabres), and Elrohir and Nova's cliché romance movie True-Love-Conquers-All kiss at the end. The class cheered. The group that had to go after us looked worried, and rightly so. Their presentation was about a girl asking for directions to the train station.  
  
Then, since I was in a good schoolwork mood, I was able to quickly finish my History paper. I emailed it off to the prof, and allowed myself to spend a good seventeen minutes basking in the satisfying glow of my own general stupendousness before going down to the cafeteria for supper. And it was even pizza night. I sat with Elrohir, and he ate my pepperoni for me since I don't like meat on pizza. He provided dinnertime music by singing "Building a Mystery" over and over in many different ways. Only he kept changing the words, so instead of "building a mystery" he was "kicking the table legs", "taking [his] jacket off", "looking at Elladan", "eating a Dixie cup", and so forth.  
  
November 22nd  
  
The best thing about waking up today was realising that I have nothing to do. And so I did nothing all day, except ring Aerthos. He's coming by tomorrow, but today, there was blissfully nothing. I stayed in bed until two and then watched videos. Maybe tomorrow I should do something, like go down to residence security and ask them to change the key code on my door so Elrohir can no longer pop in randomly at inopportune moments.  
  
November 23rd  
  
The security technician came up and changed my key code. The new code is 7294. I just know I'm going to forget it. I asked him if he could change it to something I'd remember easily, and suggested perhaps 1532, 1701, 2889, 3441, 3726, or something like that, but he refused, saying that the codes are generated randomly and he has no control over them. However, I distinctly saw him punch 7294 into the keypad twice and press "set", so I think he was just being surly and uncooperative. He could've just as easily entered 1532, and made my life much easier by doing so.  
  
Aerthos came by a few hours later. I thought we'd be just sitting around watching videos as usual, but he wanted to go somewhere. So we took the bus downtown and went to the public library. I don't know what it is about public libraries that attracts insane people, but there were two of them fighting over a video copy of "The Thief of Valmar" and another one walking around with a grocery bag full of National Geographics, muttering about feeding the cats. We ended up quickly picking out a few DVDs and hurrying out. We were leered at by bums on the bus back to the uni. We spent the night watching movies in my room, which (I wanted to point out) we could have easily done without the whole traumatic trip to the library. Next time he wants to go somewhere I will have to remind him of this.  
  
November 24th  
  
We got our marks back for the Quenya presentations today. Everyone in our group got 25/25. I might do reasonably well in this class after all.  
  
November 26th  
  
I bought a ticket to the Fiommereth Formal cabaret on Friday. I don't really want to go, but I figure I might as well since I went through the trouble of getting this dumb formal Noldo costume here and I should probably get some use out of it. And Aerthos thinks it's attractive in a stuffy old-fashioned sort of way, so...  
  
November 27th  
  
My telephone rang just before four this morning. At first I didn't want to answer, but then I thought that for somebody to be ringing me at this time it had to be either a family emergency or some knob over long distance who didn't realise what time it was here. I picked up the phone. And I was right with my second guess.  
  
It was Glorfindel on the line. Glorfindel, who hasn't telephoned or written or even emailed in all the three months he's been gone. Glorfindel, over a terrible long distance connection with a two-second time delay. He sounded excited. Crackly and staticky and about to disconnect at any moment, but excited.  
  
Aralindë just had her baby, and Glorfindel is now the very hyperactively excited father of a little boy named Elairon Almárëo. He is 49 centimetres long and weighs 3,2 kilograms. I didn't hear any baby wailing in the background, which I mentioned, and Glorfindel said that Elairon doesn't really cry, he squawks. He then held his mobile closer to Elairon (presumably), and I heard a vague squawking sound. Then Glorfindel came back on and said that was the most beautiful sound in the world. I didn't bother to tell him that I think his son sounds like an albatross.  
  
Then Glorfindel hung up. I think he was trying to telephone everyone he knew in the space of five minutes. I'm guessing he rang Elrohir next, since shortly after he let me go I heard someone pushing the keypad on my door and then rattling the handle when it mysteriously wouldn't open. I had to get up and let Elrohir in, who looked about as excited as Glorfindel had sounded. He bounced around and went on about how much he loves babies. I told him the baby sounded like an albatross. He didn't know what an albatross sounded like. But, since he still had eight hours to go before his first class, he decided to walk down to the docks and find an albatross to listen to. He came back in time for breakfast, smelling a bit like seaweed, and then spent the rest of the day in bed because he was frozen from sitting on the breakwater in the dark at the end of November like an idiot. He didn't hear an albatross either, so to cheer him up after supper I found an albatross WAV file online. He listened to it twenty-six times before I made him leave my room.  
  
November 29th  
  
I don't think the Fiommereth Formal cabaret was significantly different from any other cabaret I've been to, except that everyone was wearing fancier clothing and drinking spiked egg nog instead of beer. I wore my dumb Noldo costume, which gathered many comments. Most people said, "Wow, I haven't seen anyone wearing one of those in a long time!" I will have to tell dad that. He's still under the impression that they are the height of fashion. He obviously hasn't looked in PEOPLE magazine since... Well, he's probably never looked in PEOPLE magazine. Elrohir also sort of wore his Noldo costume. That is, he wore the drapey robe part over tight vinyl trousers and his mesh shirt. Somebody took a photo of him for the uni paper. I sincerely hope this doesn't start a new trend in masculine formalwear.  
  
Aerthos and I stayed around until midnight, when they did the door prize draws. Neither of us won anything, but Nova won a GHU key chain. Then the Fiommereth Classics karaoke started up and we knew it was time to leave. We made our exit just as Elrohir started belting out "Jingle Bell Rock". He's not the best singer, but he is loud and enthusiastic and had put on a red funfur Aulë hat with a sparkly pompom. We could hear him down the corridor and halfway across the Uni Centre as we made our way back to the residence.  
  
Back in my room, we had our own private Fiommereth cabaret. It wasn't nearly as flashy as the one in the Multipurpose Room, but it was very satisfying all the same. Also, we had a 26 of rum.  
  
December 1st  
  
Last week of classes! Well, aside from finals, but those don't really count. We spent the entire Quenya class today singing "Fiommerelindi" and making "hyelleni", which is a fancy way of saying star-shaped tree decorations made out of wax paper. As soon as class was over I had to look around and check to make sure we were still in university.  
  
Then in PolySci 412 I got my paper back. On the back page was written, "I am a bit disappointed with your effort here. Some of this is well written, some of it is not. You have to be more careful. 60%." After reading the paper over again, I am a bit disappointed in myself too. I can't believe I handed in this crap.  
  
December 2nd  
  
I got the 441 paper back today, with a mark of 81%. I tried to read the prof's comments, but they were largely illegible. The only words I could make out were "advantageous" and "references". I'll just have to be happy with the 81 and assume I'm on the right track for the final.  
  
December 3rd  
  
96% on the History paper. I'm not really sure how that's even possible, since I handed it in late and should've lost 5%. Actually, I didn't even technically hand it in. I emailed it. The comments said stuff like "excellent job", "poignant observations" and "informatively written." The girl who sits next to me got a 73 and mediocre comments, even though she worked on her paper for a week and a half and it was a good five pages longer than mine and included many more references. I'm starting to suspect that the prof just tossed the papers down the stairs and marked according to which ones landed where. Not that I'm complaining. This 96 means I only need to get 20% on the final to pass the class.  
  
In Quenya we sang more lindi and made Fiommerel cards for our parents out of construction paper and sparkles. The prof helped write quaint Quenya sayings inside each of them. Elrohir had to borrow her big dictionary to look up the Quenya word for "beetle" to write in his.  
  
December 4th  
  
Last day of classes. Aerthos and I went to the uni pub to celebrate. We were also celebrating getting a 90 on our in-class presentation. I figured I deserved it, so I ordered a spicy chicken sandwich. "Smothered in cheese and jalapenos", the menu read. It didn't look too smothered when it arrived. I don't suppose anything can be technically "smothered" in three slices of banana pepper and a Kraft single, except maybe a Triscuit. Then Aerthos' "loaded" burger came with one slice of bacon, two pickles, one tomato, two onion rings, and a leaf of lettuce on a Kraft Single. I think this university has started cheating us in the food department as well, since it already charges outrageous tuition prices for mediocre classes, and $1,75 for a 591 ml bottle of Coke that could reasonably be purchased for $1,26 at the convenience store across the Parkway.  
  
When we got back to the residence tower, more end-of-semester celebrations were already in full swing. Someone had rigged a Fëanorian flag up to the pole on top of the tower, and the residence director was screaming at the custodian to get it down. Then inside, a group of engineers had hijacked four hapless agriculture freshmen, stripped them down to their shorts, duct taped them to wheelie chairs, and were placing bets on which one would wheel down the big entrance ramp fastest. Aerthos had to jump to avoid being hit by a crop science major. By force of habit, I almost turned around to yell at Elrohir to be more careful, but caught myself just in time. Elrohir was in fact nowhere to be seen. Which was strange, given that all sorts of trouble was going down wherever I looked. It made me nervous that he was off somewhere getting into the ultimate trouble. Aerthos agreed that we should probably look for him.  
  
We found him in his room by himself. He was lying on his bed reading a book. Not a comic, and not a magazine: a real book, without pictures. Tenacious D was playing quietly in the background. Not playing loudly, nor even at a moderate volume: honest-to-goodness quietly. And Elrohir was even dressed, in jeans and a GHU tee-shirt. He looked up at us with a smile and said, "Hello." I asked him if he was feeling alright. He said, "Yep," and went back to reading his book. Aerthos and I looked at each other questioningly, just as a girl in very tight jeans ran up and yelled, "Elrohir, the Coke machine in the basement is broken and giving out Cokes if you put any coins in! Wanna come check it out?" I fully expected him to jump up and run after her, since I was tempted to do so myself (having become suddenly very thirsty), but he just rolled over and said, "Nah, I'm gonna have a nap." He asked me to hit the lights on the way out.  
  
Now I'm seriously worried. Elrohir appears to have been replaced by a pod person, and a very sensible and studious pod person at that. I can't think of any instance of him getting into trouble in the last several days. The last week, even. I might have to ring dad tonight, after I finish my three 15-cent Diet Vanilla Cokes. That was all the machine had left by the time I got there.  
  
December 5th  
  
I got a Fiommereth card from Arwen in the post this morning. I guess she started with the cards even earlier this year, probably to make sure I buy her something fabulous and exotic from the Grey Havens instead of some crap from the Giant Tiger when I get back to Rivendell. I think I'll get her a book on all the latest Telerin trends in home décor. Making designer lampshades and slipcovers seems like something she'd do.  
  
I did talk to dad last night about Elrohir, but it was after I'd drank all the Coke and had a stomach ache from all the carbonation. When dad asked me how I was, I tried to say, "Good," but all that came out was one of the loudest burps I've ever produced. It was mortifying. I'm glad I was only talking to dad. Dad yelled, "Elrohir!" then caught himself and yelled, "I mean, Elladan!" I stayed silent for a few seconds before I trusted my mouth enough to speak properly. Then I told him about Pod Person Elrohir.  
  
I should've guessed that dad would get mad at me for thinking that Elrohir acting like a normal person for once meant there was something wrong. He's still sadly clinging to the hope that one day Elrohir will become a productive and useful member of society, so he took Elrohir's change as a good sign, not something to worry about. I really miss Glorfindel. Glorfindel would be on my side for this. I should write him an email.  
  
December 6th  
  
I got an email back from Glorfindel. I knew I shouldn't have tagged on that courtesy line asking about his dumb baby.  
  
- - - - -  
From: "Lauron" f_lauron@valinat.nat  
Subject: Re: Pod brother  
  
Hey El, good to hear from you. Guess classes  
are almost over at GHU for the semester? Must  
be nice.  
  
Elairon is fantastic so far. Still sleeps most  
of the day, but is getting more active during  
the time he's awake, starting to move more.  
Usually that activity is in the middle of the  
night. Ara read in some parenting magazine  
that babies sleep better when they share a bed  
with their parents, so guess where he sleeps  
now... I don't mind too much, and he isn't  
squashed yet from anyone rolling on top of  
him... It's amazing, really, just to lie there  
and watch him sleep. He's so little still.  
Might seem more real as he starts to get  
bigger.  
  
Ara and I went shopping the other day to get him  
his first real clothes, not that you can buy  
much other than those snap-up stretchy suits for  
newborns. Usually in pastel colours too, and we  
really wanted bright red or blue. Took an hour at  
least to finally find tiny corduroy overalls,  
though those were sized for three months. Ara had  
to make them smaller when we got home. Even then  
they didn't fit too well, kept sliding off his  
shoulders, so we put him back in the snap-up  
stretchy suit as soon as grandma and grandpa saw  
how nice he looked in his new clothes. I took a  
photo.  
  
Of course he's had lots of visitors so far, from  
grandparents to great-grandparents and my aunts  
and cousins. We're still looking forward to the  
day when he can stay awake long enough to see  
everyone. Apart from sleeping at night, he has  
naps every two hours or so.  
  
- - - - -  
  
I stopped reading at that point and just scrolled past the next several paragraphs of Elairon's sleeping and feeding patterns, right on down to the bottom. Glorfindel had sent photos. One of a floppy-looking sleeping baby in a humorously large pair of red overalls, one of the floppy baby lying naked on a sheepskin and looking ornery, a closeup of the baby holding onto somebody's finger, the baby nursing (I really didn't need to see that), Glorfindel holding the baby, Aralindë holding the baby, Glorfindel and Aralindë holding the baby, Glorfindel and some random Vanyar (whom I'm guessing are somehow related to him) all staring at the baby in awe, the baby all bundled up in many fancy blankets, and then one of Glorfindel and Aralindë sitting nicely under a tree with their new son, posing in a way that looks suspiciously as if this is a photo they plan to send out to everybody they know, likely in a Fiommereth card. It would be a nice photo if Elairon weren't sleeping floppily, his tongue sticking out at the camera.  
  
December 7th  
  
I have finals all this coming week. The wise thing to do would be start studying, but for some reason I can't seem to stop myself from playing Freecell. Hmm.  
  
I went to check on Pod Elrohir earlier, and he was still being poddish, organising his DVD collection alphabetically by genre and making a plan of his shelving unit. Then Aerthos came by, bearing a thermos of coffee. He filled my mug right up to the brim, almost spilling it, and I almost spilled again when I added sugar without sipping any off the top first. Aerthos said, "Good thing it has a meniscus," and just then I had a very odd sense of déjà vu. He left shortly thereafter. The rest of the afternoon was clouded in an aura of weirdness. Though I did finally beat the Beginner level on Minesweeper.  
  
Now I really ought to get around to studying. Really.  
  



	5. The Elladan Show 5

December 12th  
  
I've never cared much for the smell of airports. All of them smell the same- that sort of mix halfway between new carpet and old rubber with a bit of high school gymnasium thrown in. I've also never cared much for airport food, insofar as it is invariably overpriced and undergood. I think the airports must be trying to compete with cineplexes, ski resorts, and universities in the "ridiculous prices for cheap junk" department. I just bought a pack of Skittles for $2.  
  
Pod Elrohir fell asleep about an hour ago, not long after the announcement came up that our flight was cancelled due to a freak blizzard in Rivendell that dumped two feet of snow on the runways. I was sort of hoping that the prospect of being stranded in the Grey Havens airport would incite Elrohir to some sort of mischief, but alas he just went to sleep in one of the seats in the boarding lounge and told me not to wake him until the airport authority decides what to do with us. Last I heard the Rivendell airport had emergency teams out to clear the snow, but they estimated that our flight wouldn't be able to leave until tomorrow morning. It's beginning to look like all the passengers will be herded over to the airport Ramada for the night. I would welcome that solution. The trousers I'm wearing are starting to get uncomfortable, and I'd really like to change.  
  
We've been sitting around waiting to do something for nearly two hours. I used some of that time to make a spreadsheet of this year's Fiommereth gift recipients. So far I have:

Elrohir: Subscription to Reptile World magazine (Purchased)  
Dad: 3-D puzzle of Minas Tirith (To be purchased- seen in Zellers catalogue)  
Arwen: Book of designer home décor tips (Sent)  
Aragorn: Plaid pyjamas (Sent)  
Erestor: Biographical DVD of Gil-galad (Purchased)  
Grandma: Paraffin foot spa (To be purchased)  
Bilbo: Grey Havens calendar (Purchased)  
Aerthos: Satin houserobe (Delivered)  
  
I have to think of something to get grandpa yet. I have no idea what he wants, but I figure it ought to be something nice, since he and grandma are coming to stay with us over the holidays for the first time ever, so this is a very special occasion. I am also wondering if I should get something to send to Legolas, other than a Fiommereth e-card. I saw a book of make-your-own ice cream recipes when I bought Erestor's DVD, so maybe that would do.  
  
December 13th  
  
Elrohir and I are still at the airport Ramada. The situation in Rivendell has worsened. Just as the first snowfall was almost cleared, another blizzard hit and dumped another load of snow. So the flight has been delayed another day. This wouldn't be so bad if the airport authority gave us more than a $5 voucher for each meal. The only thing you can buy for $5 around here is an order of garlic toast. Elrohir and I have been eating mostly garlic toast. I was forced to use my own funds to buy a decent lunch today.  
  
We hung about the hotel all day doing pretty much nothing. We couldn't go to the pool, since neither of us had swimmers, and the arcade games in the lobby were swarming with small children. I tried to work up Elrohir's interest in finding some sort of mischief, but he didn't seem up for that. He didn't even want to help himself to the unlocked supply closet full of shower caps and tiny shampoo bottles. Something is seriously wrong. Though he did seem to perk up a bit when we found a secret bathroom on the third floor. He got a bit of a thrill out of peeing in a toilet marked "employees only".  
  
When we finally went back to the room, we found a note had been shoved under the door. Our flight will be leaving at ten after nine tomorrow morning, provided the weather remains stable overnight. I sincerely hope it does. Being in a hotel with Elrohir is bad enough at the best of times, but being in a hotel with a boring Elrohir is nigh unbearable.  
  
December 14th  
  
I always forget how much I like being at home until I actually get here. I ate four servings of fat-free white chocolate pudding for supper, then spent three hours playing Mario with Elrohir and the iguana, with whom Elrohir had a joyful reunion. The cat was nowhere to be found and missed out on the action. Dad even made us nachos. This is truly the good life.  
  
I think Elrohir is better now. On the plane this morning he confessed that he's been depressed because Nova dumped him for some surfer in her maths class. After he admitted it he immediately started to look better, and within fifteen minutes of me assuring him that she's an idiot, he was abusing the complimentary wine and fiddling with my headphones as I tried to watch the Loony Toons Fiommereth special. He kept turning my dial to a punk station. When he started squirming in his seat saying, "My ass is cramping up hardcore!" I knew he was pretty much cured. Then I didn't feel so bad about punching him in the arm whenever he kicked me.  
  
December 15th  
  
I accidentally slept in until two pm today. After that my entire schedule was off and I accomplished nothing. Stupid time zone.  
  
Actually, I accomplished one thing. I made a list of stuff I want and magnetted it up to the fridge. It went like this:  
wireless optical mouse  
CD stand  
down-feather pillow  
socks and underwear  
digital camera (no less than 4 megapixels!!!)  
Kodak High Definition film  
large bath towel  
bedside lamp with bendy neck  
travel alarm clock  
8-in-one retractable screw driver  
Brita filter  
  
I think toward the end you can sort of tell I was just going through the Wal-Mart flyer looking for anything half-decent to write down.  
  
Elrohir spent the afternoon giving the iguana a bath. He was using dad's electric toothbrush to clean the iguana's claws. I wonder if dad knows.  
  
December 16th  
  
Dad and I had an organisational meeting today. It was supposed to be a catching-up chat where I told him all about my semester at university and showed him various GHU mementos, but we realised we didn't have time for that. Grandma and grandpa will be arriving from Lothlórien in two days and the house isn't festively decorated at all, or even clean for that matter. So as soon as I'd told dad I was confident that I'd done well enough in all my classes, we moved right on to cleaning and decorating schedules.  
  
My duties are:  
hire a Rug Doctor and shampoo all the carpets in the living room, den, and main floor corridors.  
vacuum other non-essential carpets  
prepare dad's room for grandma and grandpa  
  
Dad's duties are:  
purchase all needed holiday food and beverages  
purchase tree  
put up outdoor lights  
wash and vacuum car so it lives up to grandpa's strict expectations  
  
Elrohir's duties are:  
dust living room, dining room, front entry and den  
Bee-mop all tile floors  
rearrange living room furniture to accommodate tree  
help dad with lights  
clean iguana cage  
kill maple bugs  
  
Erestor's duties are:  
bake various holiday cookies, cakes, tarts, loaves, and pies  
wash, starch, and iron festive table linens  
polish brass and silver  
wash good supper service  
  
And that's just for today. Tomorrow we have to do all the decorating. I'd better get started.  
  
December 18th  
  
The house is ready for grandma and grandpa. As ready as it's going to get, in any case. All the main carpets are shampooed, even if they are still damp and smell like wet dogs. I had a bit of a trial with the Rug Doctor, since for the first ten minutes the carpets just seemed to be getting dirtier the more I shampooed them. Then I actually read the instructions and learned that I'm only supposed to pull the infernal contraption backwards over the carpet. Pushing it forward puts the entire operation in reverse and makes the dirty water come out. I think it made a brownish stain by the fireplace. I hope dad doesn't notice. Seeing as there are no overhead lights in the living room and all the lamps have only 60 watt bulbs, I don't think he should.  
  
Dad's bedroom is organised and ready for grandma and grandpa to stay in. I put all new linens on the bed and used the green flannel duvet cover (it was the most festive one I could find), and gave them the good pillows (the ones that aren't lumpy old foam). I put all dad's random crap into boxes and shoved the boxes into the closet, and put out new candles and cinnamon-scented Fiommereth potpourri. Then I cleaned the bathroom and set out fresh towels and soaps, and made sure there was shampoo in the shower and a full toilet roll on the dispenser. Purex ultra-soft 3-ply toilet roll, I might add. That's what dad has in his biff, while the rest of the house has to make do with scratchy 1-ply recycled Safeway econo-brand! I will have words with dad about this inequity.  
  
Decorating was pure chaos without Arwen and her natural feminine skills coordinating the effort. Dad set the tree up on Tuesday night after I shampooed the carpet, but he was nowhere to be seen yesterday when it was time to put the lights on. In fact, nobody was around. I had to do it all myself! I got the stepladder out of the garage, but it had been standing in a puddle of something that had melted off the bottom of the Mazda, so I had to put socks on its legs to keep it from mucking up the clean carpet. Then I went at the lights.  
  
Really, I'm not sure how Arwen does it. The light strings kept getting tangled in my hair. My fingers kept getting covered in sap. Then the lights would get sticky from my fingers, and my hair would get sticky from the lights, and at one point I ended up standing on the sock-clad stepladder, leaning precariously close to the tree as I tried to disentangle the back of my head. It took me no less than four hours to put eight strings of sodding miniature lights on the stupid tree. Dad and Elrohir came in just as I was doing the very bottom branches. I plugged it all in, and instead of saying, "Oh, Elladan, what a wonderful job, it looks gorgeous!" dad said, "Did you miss a spot?" I stood back and, sure enough, there was a large gaping dark hole toward the top left side. One of the strings of lights wasn't working.  
  
Really, I didn't care. I said we could just hang more decorations to fill in the hole, but dad wouldn't hear of it. He said, "Elladan, you know full well that the significance of this tree is to honour the beauty and light of the Two Trees of Valinor, and I will not have a Fiommereth tree that looks as if it were partially attacked and killed by Morgoth!" I had to drive to the drug store and get a new box of lights, then come back home, extract the evil unlights, and bung the new ones up on the tree. Dad plugged it all together and, lo and behold! the tree glowed a brilliant white with no more gaping dark Morgoth death spots. I'm sure Yavanna would be proud, if Valar can be bothered to care about trivial crap like dad's Fiommereth tree.  
  
Dad had decided on the Telperion theme, so he brought out the boxes of silver decorations and we had at it. Somehow the tree decorating seemed very frantic and stressful this year. Dad dropped a glass chickadee on the parquet and I accidentally broke a glittery plastic snowflake. Ironically, Elrohir was the only one who didn't break anything, though his iguana knocked off a snowman, two stars, and a dove when it jumped from Elrohir's head and tried to climb the tree. The experience became a bit more festive when Erestor brought out some cider and star-shaped cookies, but still there was an overwhelming feeling of panic. To save time, dad even let Elrohir set up the porcelain Valar, which has never before happened in the history of this household, because everybody knows he will arrange them in a sacrilegious manner. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I helped dad toss icicle tinsel at the tree. Oddly enough, he made a very reasonably setup.  
  
I went over to turn Aulë so he faced a bit more toward Manwë, but Elrohir slapped my hand away and told me not to touch his Valar. Then he spent the next twenty minutes making tiny adjustments to achieve ultimate perfection. There was no goofiness to be seen. In fact, Elrohir looked downright protective of his perfect setup. I think we may have just solved the problem of him monkeying with the Valar. So long as he's the one to do the original arrangement, he seems to be very jealous and therefore less inclined to put them in naughty poses or have them all adoring a walnut. Glorfindel should be glad to know that.  
  
We finally finished all the decoration around midnight. Never has decorating seemed so chore-like. I blame Arwen for not being here. Elrohir hung up the stockings, I put the pinecone wreath on the door and arranged the candles in the front hall, Erestor went around with the box of random things (fake holly, snowman train, tree-shaped pillows, mechanical plastic Aulë doll that drops his trousers, etc.) and put them all in their rightful places, and dad hung a sprig of mistletoe above the archway that leads into the living room. He and Erestor kissed under it for what I deemed to be longer than necessary. I don't know what was more disturbing: watching my father passionately kiss my former boyfriend, or the feeling of regret and longing that went along with the watching. I think I might have to ring Aerthos later.  
  
I hope grandma and grandpa appreciate all the work that's gone into the preparation for their arrival.  
  
December 19th  
  
Dad left at half nine last night to pick up grandma and grandpa from the airport. He returned two hours later with grandma, grandpa, Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, and Ardlor. I'm not sure how they all fit into the Mazda, but I really wish I could've seen. Erestor's eyes went wide as they all trooped in from the garage. He gave dad a questioning look, and I distinctly saw dad mouth, 'Don't ask.' I followed dad into the kitchen and as soon as we were out of earshot, I did ask.  
  
As far as I can gather, this is the story. Ardlor has a role in a forthcoming B-grade cop movie that begins shooting here January 1st. He and Rúmil decided that, since they would be moving at the end of the month anyway, they would come early and have a holiday vacation. When they learned that grandma and grandpa were coming at the same time, they organised to be on the same flight. Haldir, meanwhile, had been contracted by grandpa to housesit and water the fig trees for the duration of his and grandma's time away. However, grandma and grandpa's vacation plans started Haldir thinking along the lines of going away himself, and when he learned of Rúmil and Ardlor's vacation, that clinched it. Finally, Orophin, who didn't want to stay in Lothlorien by himself over the holidays, decided to come along too. At one point they all had hotel reservations, but grandma convinced them on the plane that "Elrond has lots of room." Thus they are staying here. Until New Years'.  
  
Erestor came into the kitchen after a few minutes and started saying stuff like "Fiommereth is a time for gatherings of family and friends, after all," but dad apparently didn't buy that hooey. He thinned his lips and started robotically preparing coffee for everyone. I saw him surreptitiously sneak two ounces of rum into his own mug. I did the same to mine as soon as he wasn't looking.  
  
We have just enough room to fit everyone without resorting to unnecessary doubling-up or mattresses on the floor. Grandma and grandpa are in dad's room, dad is in Arwen's room, Haldir is in Aragorn's room, Orophin is in the main guest room, Rúmil is in the room we usually give to Legolas, and Ardlor is in Glorfindel's room. Erestor, Elrohir and I are all in our own rooms. It all works out pretty well, and should be fine so long as no more guests show up.  
  
Now the main challenge is finding stuff for everybody to do. Dad took grandma and grandpa on a tour around town today, and I went shopping with Rúmil and Ardlor while Elrohir stayed home with the iguana on his head and played Nintendo with Orophin and Haldir searched for the missing cat. We're all going to go to Lindir's annual karaoke and ping-pong party on Monday night, but other than that there are no plans. I sense that lots of video-watching and tranquil walks through the snow are imminent.  
  
December 20th  
  
It occurred to me today that I my life is a situation comedy. The sort that sticks a whole bunch of unlikely characters together for some reason and counts on the pure ludicrosity of the setup for laughs. In The Elladan Show (airing daily on the A Channel!), world leaders are brought together by fate and placed in the same household for the holiday season. Zaniness ensues.  
  
It all started this morning, and the pilot episode went something like this:  
  
EXT. ELLADAN'S HOUSE, MORNING  
  
ELLADAN stands on the stoop, wearing a puffy ski parka reminiscent of the  
Michelin Man. As he struggles valiantly to shovel a stubborn patch of ice  
off the steps, a large red van pulls into the drive. Out steps THRANDUIL,  
King of Mirkwood. Studio audience whistles and yells "WOOOO!"  
THRANDUIL  
Well, this is the place!  
  
Elladan looks dumbfounded. Studio audience laughs. Thranduil swaggers  
up to the front stoop.  
  
THRANDUIL  
Morning, Elladan!  
  
Thranduil continues swaggering all the way up the stairs and barges right  
on into the house. Studio audience laughs.  
  
ELLADAN  
Erm, what are you doing here?  
  
THRANDUIL  
We've come to visit!  
  
ELLADAN  
"WE"?!!! Studio audience laughs.  
  
Wide shot of Thranduil's van. Out steps his wife, mother, and five  
daughters. Studio audience howls with laughter. Finally, LEGOLAS  
steps out of the van and poses long enough to receive a standing ovation  
from the studio audience. Audience yells "WOOOO!" and young girls  
worldwide scream in a frenzy of adolescent lust.  
  
At this point I panicked, dropped the shovel, and ran for dad. He was on his hands and knees in the living room with a box of Kleenex, trying desperately to kill all the maple bugs before grandpa saw them. Words couldn't adequately describe the situation, so I silently pulled him by the arm until we got to the front door. I wish I would've had a camera, though, since the look on his face when he saw Thranduil's family was priceless.  
  
Thranduil said, "We though it might be nice to spend the holidays here in Rivendell with you. Hope you don't mind." Dad said, "Actually, Thranduil, now really isn't a very convenient..." But Thranduil cut him off by going into some explanation of how workmen are removing the asbestos from his Halls and he can't very well stay there now, can he? Also, he heard that Celeborn and Galadriel were in town, and was there some sort of Elven leadership conference going on for which he should be present? Dad's defences eventually broke down and he agreed to let Thranduil stay. He put me in charge of organising a new bedroom allotment plan, and went off muttering something about aspirin and having to buy a bigger turkey to feed all these new guests. He spent the next two hours in maple-bug-killing relaxation therapy. It seemed to work pretty well, and as a bonus he would up with a whole ice-cream pail full of wadded Kleenex and squished maple bugs.  
  
The new bedroom plan is as follows: grandma and grandpa in dad's room, Thranduil and his wife in Arwen's room, Haldir and Orophin in Aragorn's room, two of Thranduil's daughters in my room, Legolas in Elrohir's room, Thranduil's mother and the youngest daughter in the guest room, the other two daughters in the room we usually give Legolas, Rúmil and Ardlor in Glorfindel's room, and Elrohir and I on the hide-a-bed in the den (as usual). Dad and Erestor will share Erestor's room, but for the sake of decency they are going to tell grandpa that dad is sleeping in some imaginary spare room in the basement.  
  
I honestly don't know what we're going to do with all these people. No matter where I go in the house, there's always somebody underfoot or getting into trouble, and arguments constantly arise. Thranduil's mother has already commandeered the kitchen and kicked Erestor out because she's convinced he doesn't know how to make gingerbread properly.  
  
December 21st  
  
Dad is depressed. Elrohir thinks it is because of the crappy weather (who knew that without the power of Vilya Rivendell would average a blizzard per week?), but I am confident it is because of Thranduil's unreasonable demands. Dad had to run down to the Shop Rite at seven this morning to fetch two litres of club soda because Thranduil doesn't like regular water. For somebody who lives in a traditionalist Silvan commune, he sure is accustomed to modern luxuries.  
  
In order to cheer up dad, Elrohir spent the day attempting to forge new Rings of Power to control the snowstorms and compensate for Vilya's inefficiency. Unfortunately his forging skills are a bit on the shoddy side. After several hours at the kitchen table he presented dad with the Ring of Lettuce, the Ring of Saran Wrap, the Ring of Lego, and the Ring of Mayonnaise. The Ring of Mayonnaise, he explained, can only be worn for a few minutes at a time every few hours. The rest of the time it has to be kept in the freezer. Dad was speechless.  
  
Grandpa did not hold well with this Ring-forging business. He went and sat in Erestor's car with a Crypto-Quip book and stayed there all afternoon until Antiques Road Show came on. I think he still has hard feelings toward Celebrimbor, probably over golf. I know he still holds a grudge against Círdan and the entire Grey Havens area because of an incident in which he was unable to find Eastern Hockey League scores in any paper or on any radio station while on a business trip to Lindon back at the beginning of the Second Age. Grandma didn't care about the Rings, but that might only be because she's nearly as depressed as dad. When she imagined Fiommereth in Rivendell I think she anticipated perusing exciting new high street shops for fancy lingerie and designer shoes, not playing Trivial Pursuit with Thranduil's wife and mother. Thranduil himself went out cross country skiing at noon, and nobody's seen him since. I hope he didn't get lost in the blizzard. Not so much because I really care about his well-being, but because I'm sure his mysterious disappearance would make dad (and me by association) look bad on the news.  
  
December 22nd  
  
A card from Glorfindel came in today's post. Inside was a collection of photos of him, Aralindë, and the baby. I put it on the buffet with the other cards, which came from Arwen and Aragorn, Bilbo, Frodo, Lindir, Faramir, Eómer, Círdan, EnMax, Telus, Global, Access, the dentist, and about ten people I don't know but who dad claims are close friends.  
  
I also got my first Fiommereth present today: a free dairy recipe calendar from the milkman. I claim it as my own because I had to haul in the stupid milk from the step when I got the mail, and I was the one who found it wedged between two things of half and half and a carton of eggnog. I looked over the recipes while I was eating breakfast, and they appear to be nothing more than regular recipes altered somewhat to include more dairy products than anyone needs. I mean really, who puts whipping cream in meatloaf anyway?! The milk company is up to something, trying to get us to buy more and more, and I don't think I like it. I was secretly pleased when Elrohir, outraged that I got the free calendar instead of him, staged an anti-milk demonstration by putting orange juice on his Shreddies instead of 1.  
  
I spent the rest of the morning watching music videos on cable with Rúmil and Ardlor. They looked terminally bored. I don't think a quiet family Fiommereth in Rivendell quite compares to their usual glamorous downtown Lórien lifestyle. I'm positive I heard Rúmil mutter "quaint" in a distinctly derogatory fashion. More than once. Thranduil came and joined us around noon, but Rúmil and Ardlor left straight away. They have been fundamentally opposed to Thranduil on a political level ever since they found out that homosexuality is still illegal in Mirkwood. They found out two days ago. It's been a bit tense. Actually, being around Thranduil is always tense. He radiates impatience and is far too alert for his own good. He's always doing things, and seems physically unable to sit and relax and mindlessly watch television like a normal person. It wasn't five minutes before he asked me to go cross country skiing with him. I was about to say no thanks, but just then I heard dad hollering for "volunteers" to shovel the driveway. I told Thranduil I'd have to borrow some of his ski gear.  
  
We eventually assembled an outfit consisting of Elrohir's snowboard kit, a knit ski hat that dad got free from the insurance place, authentic hand-made Avarin beaded fur mittens that were purchased impulsively at a craft sale several years ago, a scarf that appeared never to have been used, and skis, boots, and poles that belonged to either Legolas or his mother (Thranduil was unsure which). I also put on some sunglasses for good measure, to ensure that nobody would recognise me in this getup. Then we took off across the back yard. I probably should have told Thranduil that I haven't been cross country skiing since the time the elementary school made my class go as a phys ed field trip. I think he was able to guess, though. I fell over three times before we'd even left the garden.  
  
The next two hours were torturous, with Thranduil gliding gracefully through the trees and me slogging along behind, perpetually out of breath. I'm not sure what idiot thought that strapping two long pieces of wood to one's feet and shuffling over a flat field could ever be considered a good time. I got snow up my parka, down my trousers, in my hair, in my mittens, and in my boots. I got my skis stuck under fallen logs and in between rocks. It was -20 but I was so hot from all the exercise that I had to unzip my parka. Possibly worst of all, Thranduil had led me so far down the riverbank into the middle of Prince's Park that I had no idea where the house was, or even in which direction I should go to get home. When Thranduil sat down on a rock to take a swig from his wine skin, I asked him how much further. He asked, "Are you tired?" I managed to weakly nod yes. He said, "Well, we're only about five kilometres from the house. We can head straight back." Five kilometres! I almost collapsed from exhaustion at the thought of it. But somehow I managed to shuffle my way home, step by painful step. I saw a rabbit and three deer, but it didn't cheer me up much.  
  
What did cheer me up, though, was shuffling into the yard to the welcome sight of Elrohir, Legolas and Orophin still shovelling out the driveway. I may have aching muscles and blistered feet, and a scratch across my forehead from sliding face-first into a Douglas Fir, but at least I didn't have to spend the afternoon doing anything useful.  
  
I hope I can walk well enough to go to Lindir's party tonight. I spent forty minutes sitting in the hot bath, but it still hurts to use any of the muscles in my arms and legs.  
  
December 23rd  
  
The party didn't go very well. Dad got drunk to try to drown his sorrows, and Thranduil got drunk because I guess he just really likes drinking. Then the two of them kept at each other, arguing over absolutely everything. They started off with arguments about reasonably important things like political and religious views, but quickly degraded into arguments over whether orange juice with pulp is superior to orange juice without pulp, and if it's better to just unplug the coffee maker instead of using the ON/OFF switch. Lindir politely suggested I take them home after only an hour, as they were embarrassing themselves and ruining the festive mood. I wholeheartedly agreed with him. I took them home, made coffee for Thranduil and left him sitting at the kitchen table reading the television guide, then put dad straight to bed (being careful to avoid being seen by grandpa on the way to Erestor's room). As I tucked him in, he informed me of another wonderful piece of news. Círdan is coming.  
  
He had telephoned Círdan yesterday before the party to complain about Thranduil, but instead of sympathy he got thinly-veiled hints as Círdan went on about how he never gets to go anywhere any more, and hasn't seen Rivendell in such a long time, and always spends Fiommereth by himself, and would dearly love to be invited to a big friends and family gathering sometime... Dad figures he must've been on the internet at the time of the telephone conversation, since within ten minutes of being invited in the spirit of "how bad can one more be?" Círdan announced that he could get a flight for 2 pm on the 23rd. He will be here in a few hours. I have had to make up a new bedroom plan. Círdan will go in Elrohir's room, and Legolas will share the den with Elrohir and me. Urgh. It's not that I really dislike Legolas, it's just that he has tendencies to do things that get on my nerves. Like singing along with commercial jingles on television. I don't know what compels him to sing, "Ho ho ho, Green Giant!" every time the frozen sprouts with cheese ad comes on.  
  
This is sort of turning into an Elven leaders convention after all. Thranduil will be pleased, at least. And maybe he can con Círdan into going cross country skiing with him. I had to stoop to volunteering to do laundry this morning just to get out of another ski adventure. Thranduil took Grandma instead, who was too hung over from Lindir's party to be able to properly refuse. Rumour has it she drank a 26 of rye and then passed out on Lindir's pink velour divan, but Elrohir told me this rumour so there's a good chance he was exaggerating. From the look of Grandma's hair and makeup when she got in last night, I'd say she only drank a bottle of wine and then maybe sat on the divan with her eyes closed for a few minutes while everyone else was putting their shoes on to leave.  
  
FIVE HOURS AND SEVEN MINUES LATER (according to my watch anyway):  
  
Círdan arrived right on schedule. He took a taxi from the airport and walked through the front door just as dad was running around killing last-minute errant maple bugs. I really wish we could figure out where those dumb things are coming from. Círdan was carrying two enormous suitcases, which seemed to me to be a bit much since he's only going to be here for five days. But then he immediately unpacked one of the suitcases, and it was entirely full of presents, which he handed to Elrohir with instructions to place them under the tree. Elrohir spent all afternoon organising the presents, first by size, then by colour, then by addressee. By the time he had finished the tree looked like it had exploded. I don't think I've ever seen that many presents in my life. Not even on television.  
  
Of course the sight of all the presents made me remember that, in the frenzy of having all these guests, I've completely forgotten to finish off my Fiommereth shopping! I still need to get a present for Grandpa, and I suppose courtesy dictates that I really should get something for everyone else too. I'll have to go early tomorrow and head to Dominion Centre downtown, which will naturally be packed with other idiots just like me who neglected to do all their holiday purchasing at a reasonable time.  
  
December 24th (Fiommerethin)  
  
Got very little sleep last night, and as a result, I have a terrible headache. Elrohir and Legolas were up for hours playing a new card game that Elrohir invented. The game involves getting punched in the stomach whenever you lose a turn. I stopped playing after two rounds.  
  
I made myself get up at eight on the hope that if I got downtown early enough, the shops wouldn't be busy yet. Apparently every other last-minute shopper in the city had the same idea. The underground car park on 4th Ave was full, the ImPark lot on Centre was full, all five levels of the multi-park on 2nd were full, and the only free street spot I saw was a 15-minute loading zone. Eventually I had to give up and park in the bridge lot across the river, a ten minute walk from home. It would have been faster to just walk downtown in the first place.  
  
First I went to Dollar Street and filled a basket with cheap colourful candles for Thranduil's wife and mother, and picked up some 2-for-1 wrapping paper tubes. The CD that was playing in HMV as I walked past was pretty good, so I got that for Rúmil. Ardlor got a small black and white framed photograph of some trees that looked like it would fit in with his and Rúmil's living room décor. I got a bead jewellery kit and friendship bracelet kit for Thranduil's younger daughters at Learning Is Fun, and fancy hair thingies and nail polish for the older three at one of those girl accessory shops. Haldir and Orophin both got slippers, since I couldn't find anything better for them. I decided on dog pyjama bottoms for Legolas, since for some reason yesterday he was going on about how much he likes dogs. Finally, I bought Círdan one of those Tourism Rivendell calendars that has pictures of all the stuff nobody who actually lives here ever goes to see.  
  
Despite the crowds, I was done by noon. I hauled all my bags back through down town, over the bridge, and to the car. It took me five minutes to try to turn from the car park onto Memorial Drive for all the traffic, and then once I did turn, I was cut off by some jerk in an SUV. I wanted to give him the finger, but I couldn't because I was wearing mittens. I pulled into the garage just as Elrohir and Erestor came up the driveway. Their car was just as full as mine, but they looked much less frazzled. Out of morbid curiosity, I asked where they had parked. Erestor said the Zoo Park 'n' Ride, from where they had taken the LRT directly to Dominion Centre. I could've kicked myself for not thinking of that.  
  
I hauled all the bags inside and, after dodging three of Thranduil's children running trans-house races in oversized cross country ski boots, went into the living room. Grandpa was sitting at the fireplace burning everything remotely confidential, from old Master Card statements and telephone bills to receipts from the petrol station that showed the last four numbers of his debit card. He had hauled an entire bag of such things because he and grandma don't have a fireplace at home. At that moment, watching him sit there tossing handfuls of small papers into the flame, it suddenly hit me that I had completely forgotten to get him a present, even though he was my reason for going downtown in the first place! I felt a bit sick and had to sit down on the sofa, a cold sweat beginning to form on my forehead. Grandpa looked up with a frown and said, "Is something wrong?" I managed to choke out "no" before shakily standing up again and heading back to the garage. I had to take all the presents, too, since I knew that if I left them at home somebody would peek. I drove straight to the Park 'n' Ride and took the train downtown.  
  
The only up side to the entire experience is that I then knew exactly what to get grandpa. I went to Supreme Basics and bought him a paper shredder.  
  
At quarter after two I was back at home in time to get everything wrapped. Everyone but me seemed to be relaxing in the living room around a roaring fire, drinking hot cider and eating various Fiommereth treats baked by Erestor and Thranduil's mum. They didn't even have the courtesy to save any of the jam tarts or shortbread stars until I was done wrapping! By the time I joined them the only things left were gingersnaps, pecan squares, and those awful coconut balls that Erestor always makes even though nobody likes them. I took a few gingersnaps and let them soak in my cider until they were soggy. I like them best that way. Then Elrohir helped me find places for the new presents under the tree. By "under" I really mean "in the general vicinity of". Nothing has been able to fit under that tree in days.  
  
As soon as it was dark out, just around supper time, Thranduil stood up and said, "Well, looks like it's about time!" His children cheered, but everybody else just sort of looked at him until dad had the sense to ask, "Time for what?" Thranduil gave him a very sympathetic look, as if he were very unfortunate indeed for not knowing, and began to explain the old North Sindarin tradition of going door to door on Fiommerethin, singing for food and brandy. Grandma looked at grandpa, but he just sort of shrugged in confusion. Then dad asked, "Exactly who is supposed to go door to door?" Thranduil said it was mostly children, old people, the poor, and out-of-town travellers, and everybody else was supposed to stay home to hand out food and drinks to the singers. Dad looked a bit relieved and said, "Well, looks like none of us is eligible to go, then," but Thranduil said, "Nonsense! Elladan and Elrohir still live with you- they can be called children. Celeborn and Galadriel and Círdan are all quite old, aren't they?" At that grandma made a face and whispered, "I would have preferred to be classified as an out-of-town traveller, really." I whispered back, "Me too."  
  
The only ones Thranduil deemed ineligible to go out singing with him were dad and Erestor. They had to stay at home with cookies on hand in case any singers came by. The rest of us were more or less forced to get bundled up (to face the blizzard that was just starting) and trudge down the road to the nearest house. Thranduil rang the bell, and as soon as the door opened we all started singing "Deck the Halls". Some less enthusiastically than others. As expected, the poor home owners had no idea what in the world was going on. In fact, we were yelled at for disturbing their family gathering. The next house was a bit better; the owners at least thanked us for our creative rendition of "The Holly and the Ivy" before firmly bolting the door. Nobody was home at the third house, and the fourth house was full of students who had no extra food to give away. Two of them ended up joining us for lack of anything better to do, though. The fifth house was a repeat of the first, but still Thranduil refused to get discouraged. We started on the next block and got two polite thank-yous, two not-homes, one refusal to answer the door even though we could very clearly see a variety of inhabitants through the living room window, one religious fanatic who asked us if we had truly accepted the everlasting love of Elbereth, and three dumbfounded stares. The two students went home, but Thranduil still refused to get discouraged.  
  
It wasn't until the end of the third block that we finally came to the home of somebody who appreciated Thranduil's insane tradition. She taught North Sindarin history at the University of Rivendell, and became rather excited when she realised what we were (very pathetically) trying to do. She invited us in to chat while her husband, who taught psychology, fixed a tray of cocoa and fruit cake. She was most impressed at meeting Thranduil, and asked him at least a hundred questions about holiday traditions in Mirkwood. Then she questioned grandpa and Círdan for a bit, but their answers pertaining to Doriath and the Falas were of little interest to her, so she turned back to Thranduil. Grandma tried to hide her annoyance at not being the centre of attention, but she didn't do a very good job.  
  
Just after eight, a bunch of people started showing up at the professor's house. She explained that she was having a party for all her career-oriented colleagues who, like her and her husband, disliked children and had no interest in seeing family over the holidays. This made me think of poor lonely dad and Erestor, who were left at home all by themselves on Fiommerethin with no family or friends or party to spread the holiday cheer. I must be getting overly sentimental, because my eyes started to tear up and a lump formed in my throat at the thought of this. I quickly excused myself from the party and ran all the way home, bursting into the living room to the heart-wrenching sight of dad and Erestor snuggling happily in the mingling glow of the fireplace and the lit-up tree, taking turns sipping from a bottle of champagne and looking very content to spend a quiet evening by themselves. They had changed into their pyjamas. Erestor had taken all the plaits out of dads hair and was sort of playing with it. Dad looked up at me and said, "Oh, you're back already?" He sounded more disappointed than lonely.  
  
I mumbled something about everyone else still being at a party so he didn't have to worry, then grabbed the nearest magazine and sat down far away from them. The magazine was grandma's _Flare_. I didn't give a toss. An article about what high heels and handbags are most fashionable will always be preferable to watching dad and Erestor be intimate.  
  
This has officially been the worst Fiommereth Ever, no contest. It is entirely Arwen's fault, too, for marrying Aragorn and renewing the friendship of Elves and Men and screwing up our routine. I was much happier when Elves didn't have to care about world politics or concern themselves with any of this forthcoming Fourth Age fading and/or Time of Men nonsense! I liked being stuck in the rut of apathetic predictability, when nobody talked about moving to Valinor, Mirkwood and Rivendell happily ignored each other, and everyone in Lothlórien had that secretive we'll-never-tell-you-what-goes-on-in-our-forest-so-just-leave-us-alone vibe going on. Tomorrow had better be fantastically wonderful to make up for all the crap I've had to deal with so far!


	6. The Elladan Show 6

December 25th (Arfiommereth)  
  
Today was not fantastically wonderful. I should have known.  
  
I woke up to some very odd sounds. At first I thought Elrohir had put his Tamagotchi under my pillow again, but then I opened my eyes and saw that the noises were coming from my computer. I must've fallen asleep while playing pinball. I looked at my watch and saw that it was a few minutes after four in the morning. Then I looked at the hide-a-bed, and saw that Elrohir and Legolas had made a blanket fort. They were sitting inside, giggling.  
  
I tried to get into bed to go back to sleep properly, but their fort took up the entire mattress. I asked what they were doing in there. Elrohir said, "Undressing the iguana." Legolas giggled. I growled and punched their fort, but I guess they had made it out of tables and blankets, because my fist hit something hard with a pointy corner and it really hurt. I yelled, "Where am I supposed to sleep if you idiots are taking up the bed?!" Elrohir said, "We made you another bed on the brown lounge." I looked over at the brown lounge. It had sheets, blankets, and a pillow. On the pillow, tucked under the blankets, was a pair of Elrohir's dirty socks. Elrohir poked his head out of the fort just long enough to yell, "Don't wake the stinky socks!" and laugh wildly. I balled up the socks, tossed them at the fort, and got into my makeshift bed.  
  
The last thing I remember thinking was, "I'm never going to get to sleep now," but what seemed like only seconds later, I woke up to something poking into my eye. That turned out to be the nose of the iguana, which Elrohir was holding in front of my face. The iguana sneezed on me. Elrohir scolded the iguana, saying, "Elladan is nothing to be sneezed at." I punched him in the groin. He managed to hand off the iguana to Legolas before collapsing to the floor and making groaning-type noises. I didn't feel sorry at all. That's what sort of mood I was in.  
  
He and Legolas were wary after that, and left me pretty much alone as we all went into the kitchen to wait for present-opening time. Thranduil was already up and reading yesterday's paper over a mug of coffee, looking robotically alert as ever. I'm still convinced he never sleeps. His mother was still in bed, his wife was slicing up fruit, and his daughters were all fighting over who got the biggest orange. I grabbed a snowman mug full of coffee and sat beside Thranduil. Elrohir and Legolas grabbed holly glasses full of Five Alive and sat beside me. In a few minutes Círdan showed up, then grandpa, then Haldir and Orophin. Thranduil's mother made her appearance after about twenty minutes, followed by dad and Erestor. Grandma shuffled in just after eight-thirty, wearing an ivory satin bedroom ensemble and holding a gel mask over her eyes. Her slippers had high heels and feathers on the toes. Thranduil's wife, wearing practical green flannelette and regular slippers, thinned her lips disapprovingly.  
  
Grandma grabbed her coffee and stood beside grandpa. The two looked even more like polar opposites than usual. Grandpa was wearing a plaid bathrobe and one-piece long underwear. He shops almost exclusively from the L.L. Bean catalogue. Dad and Erestor, on the other hand, were dressed almost identically and kept standing too close together. It was a bit nauseating.  
  
At nine we held a group referendum and decided not to wait for Rúmil and Ardlor, who, according to Haldir, never get out of bed before ten. As soon as the decision was made, Elrohir made a beeline for the living room and took his place beside the tree. He very efficiently handed out the presents, subcontracting a portion of them out to Legolas, who could more easily figure out which of his sisters was which. The whole operation took a very long time. I got:  
  
digital camera (from dad)  
wireless optical mouse (from "Aulë")  
leather-bound Sindarin-Quenya dictionary (from Erestor)  
insanely large bath towel (from dad)  
fancy Sinda costume (from grandma and grandpa)  
large feather pillow (from "Aulë")  
box containing a travel hairbrush, travel alarm clock, travel-size shampoo, high-definition film, a pack of Incrediberry Koolaid, and two blank Cds (from Elrohir)  
collection of under things that I didn't feel comfortable showing anyone else (from Aerthos)  
collection of seven different tabloid papers (from Rúmil and Ardlor)  
flowering cactus (from Legolas)  
book on organisational tips for small rooms and a gift certificate to Ikea (from Arwen and Aragorn)  
ski socks and mittens (from Thranduil)  
cineplex passes (from Haldir and Orophin)  
jigsaw puzzle shaped like a cat and a video movie ratings book (from Thranduil's daughters)  
book of mind puzzles and tests (from Círdan)  
all the usual stuff in my stocking like gummi snowmen, icy squares, Blistex stick, candy cane, novelty hand-shaped soap, and a Nandorin orange.  
  
Rúmil and Ardlor were up in time to join in at the halfway point, and it was almost noon by the time everything was unwrapped. All the used wrappings made a very nice fire. Elrohir, as usual, had the largest pile of stuff. His favourites were a big new iguana cage (from dad) and salt and pepper shakers shaped like a bum (from Orophin). Grandpa was very happy with his paper shredder, and tried it out straight away on some used wrappings. Grandma sat in the good rocking chair, put her feet in the paraffin spa, and stayed there with her eyes half closed until it was time to get dressed. I put the batteries in my new camera and took some pictures of the fantastic mess of wrappings and boxes. Legolas changed into his dog pyjamas right there in the living room with everybody watching.  
  
At ten minutes past noon, dad remembered that everyone had to be in front of the government building downtown at one for the big Fiommereth speech thing. Chaos erupted. Grandma found out that grandpa had brought his light silver formal outfit instead of the dark silver, which she had anticipated him wearing when she picked out her gown. She then refused to appear in public wearing her pale gold, which, she claimed, would cause both her and grandpa to appear washed-out on camera when standing next to each other. She was forced to dig through the cedar chest of mum's old things trying to find something suitably fabulous that would compliment pale silver. After tossing aside the top five layers of foofy one-shouldered taffeta monstrosities as "too early Third Age", she eventually found something from the Second Age that was just retro enough to be fashionable again. Grandpa, oblivious to the fuss he had created, was eating a toaster waffle. He got a drop of syrup on his disruptive pale silver costume. Elrohir covered it with an impromptu corsage made out of holly and packing tape.  
  
Thranduil, meanwhile, had lost one of his good shoes, and Círdan had completely forgotten to bring his formal speech-giving outfit. He had to borrow something of dad's that was culturally ambiguous enough to be possibly mistaken for Telerin. I wore my new Sinda costume from grandma and grandpa. It had seven separate layers and was more difficult to put on than my usual stupid Noldo costume, but in the end felt less like I was wearing a boat tarp. Elrohir also wore his new Sinda costume, but with his old Noldo trousers, since he had already managed to get a yogurt stain on the new ones. Dad told him to make sure he stood behind grandma and grandpa for the whole speech thing because everybody knows Sindar don't wear wraparound trousers.  
  
We left home at twenty to one, with dad, me, Elrohir and Círdan in dad's car and Thranduil, his wife, Legolas, grandma and grandpa in Thranduil's van. Everyone else had to stay at home and make supper. We parked in a handicap spot beside the government building just as the television crews were checking their watches and dad's press secretary was running around with wild eyes and flailing hands. She more or less dragged dad up to the podium on the stairs and he had ten seconds to compose himself before going live on the air. The rest of us sort of filtered in behind him when we thought the timing was right. On the taped version I watched later it looked like somebody new had popped up behind dad every time the camera cut away to pan the crowd and then cut back to him. Elrohir's face was very prominent, straining as he was to peer over grandpa's shoulder.  
  
Dad spoke for about fifteen minutes, then made way for grandma and grandpa, followed by Círdan and finally Thranduil, who had to stand on his tiptoes and adjust the microphone because he is at least fifteen centimetres shorter than everybody else. All of them talked about peace, togetherness, and the promising future of Valinor in the coming Fourth Age. It was very iconic in a televisiony sort of way. They shook hands, especially with Thranduil, and gave cheesy smiles to the camera. The whole ordeal lasted about an hour, with no commercial breaks. Then, while the speakers went around shaking hands with important community leaders, a handful of journalists from lesser-known television and radio stations came over to ask me, Elrohir, and Legolas questions about what we thought the future held for the Elven realms of Middle-earth. Elrohir said, "Time. Definitely lots of time. And like peace would be totally awesome too." Legolas concurred. I said something stupid like, "Without a doubt, I can thoroughly envisage a future rich in peace and prosperity not only for Rivendell but for all of Middle-earth. A future in which equality, happiness, and goodwill are paramount. We have seen the end of a dark time in our history, and we are now on the brink of a bright new era." I gave my best fake smile to the photographers. All those political science courses have completely ruined my street cred.  
  
We got home at quarter to three. I walked into the house fully expecting the smell of roasting turkey, but instead found only the smell of turnips. Erestor was standing in the front entryway with crossed arms and thinned lips. He wordlessly dragged dad into the kitchen, pointed at an enormous turkey on the counter, and said, "It won't fit in the oven." Dad said, "Don't be absurd," and picked up the turkey. It wouldn't fit into the oven for him either. Backwards, frontwards, sideways, upside-down or diagonal, the turkey was too big. Haldir offered to cut off its legs and part of its bum, but dad hollered that he wouldn't stand for a defaced Fiommereth turkey. Orophin said that it was already de-faced and what difference would it make if it were also de-legged and de-bummed, but that just made dad angrier. He threw the gravy baster across the kitchen.  
  
Playing the diplomat, grandma said, "Don't you have a roast or ham or something in the freezer we could cook instead?" Erestor looked, but all he found (aside from two packs of wieners) was a box of veal cutlets, and we couldn't have those because veal gives Elrohir gas. Grandpa said, "What about that first small turkey you bought before you knew Thranduil was going to show up?" Dad said he'd given that one away to somebody from work. Then Thranduil said, "The only thing you can do now is go out and buy another turkey." Dad hollered, "Where am I supposed to get another turkey today?!" Erestor quietly said, "No Frills is open. I saw their ad in the paper." Dad grabbed my arm and said, "We're going to No Frills."  
  
In all the years I have been alive, dad has never once set foot inside No Frills. He considers it, along with SuperStore and the Co-Op, to be a communist-based organisation bent on taking over the grocery industry with their cheap-prices-but-no-service manifesto. He shops almost exclusively at Safeway, where apples cost 80 cents more per kilogram. I'm surprised he even knew where No Frills was. We went in the side door, slinking past a large throng of people gathered on the pavement, and made for the frozen meats. There were two turkeys left. We chose the one without a large dent in the side. We paid for the stupid thing and were on the home stretch when we stepped through the OUT door and into the tail end of a 24-hour food drive for the Rivendell Drop-In Centre. The throng of people cheered at the site of The One And Only Elrond, still in his fancy speech-giving costume, standing right beside the food drive host and holding a large turkey.  
  
The host said, "I don't believe this, folks! I just don't believe it! Elrond himself had dropped in out of nowhere, and look at that beautiful turkey! I'm telling you, ladies and gentlemen, this is a true Fiommereth miracle!" Dad plastered on his fake smile, but I just know I saw him cringing as he was forced to hand our turkey over to the drop-in centre volunteers. They gave him a button that said "I gave the gift of holiday cheer" in return. He said a few words about helping the needy and giving to others less fortunate. He had to wish everyone a merry Fiommereth and shake at least a hundred hands before they let him slip away, and even then the Access camera crew followed us all the way to the car. As soon as we were a safe few blocks away dad made a low growly noise, but other than that neither of us said anything.  
  
We had sprouts, turnip, carrots, and mashed potato for Fiommereth supper. No gravy on the potatoes, even, just salt and pepper. Glorfindel would've been proud. Afterward Thranduil gave everybody a little slice of the goose jerky Elrohir had given him, so that was almost traditional, if tradition had been flattened, dried, chemically processed, and shrink-wrapped to seal in authentic artificial smoke flavouring. The only up side was that there were fewer dishes to wash, and no greasy turkey pan or crusty gravy pot to scrub. The dishes were done in record time, and we even had half an hour to spare before sitting down to watch the taped replay of Aragorn's speech from earlier in the day. He isn't a very good public speaker. His tactic is to yell a bunch of clichés in a convincing voice while pointing at a flag. The crowd seemed to love it, though. Arwen was wearing a dress that was far too revealing for the occasion, but the crowd seemed to love that too.  
  
After that dad telephoned Arwen, and we all had a few minutes to chat with her about the holidays in Gondor before it was time to watch Finarfin's speech live from Tirion. He looked tired and just about as stressed-out as dad. Maybe this Fiommereth chaos was a world-wide epidemic. Glorfindel was sitting on a chair behind him, so he had probably just endured holidays with Glorfindel, Aralindë, and the baby. Glorfindel also looked a bit tired and stressed. Sitting next to Glorfindel was somebody who I'm guessing was Finrod. He kept giving Glorfindel stern looks, as if to say, "Stop scratching your nose; you're on international television." After Finarfin's (rather long) speech was over, Glorfindel got up and paraphrased it in Sindarin for the benefit of non-Quenya-speaking viewers. I'm not sure if Royal Translator is a step up or down from Chief Accountant of Rivendell.  
  
Only Elrohir, Legolas, Thranduil, and Orophin stayed up to watch Ingwë's speech. Everyone else went to bed early. Actually, that's not quite true. I thought everyone else went to bed early, but when I went to the living room to search for my slippers, I passed the kitchen door and saw dad, Erestor, grandma and Círdan sitting at the table, passing around a joint. I was very tempted to complain to grandpa about this, but then I couldn't remember if he'd be more likely to disapprove or join in, so I decided not to.  
  
December 26th  
  
Today just wasn't the same without a good plate of Merry Fiommereth Mush to eat in bed while watching DVDs. A perfectly good family tradition has been ruined, and all because Thranduil showed up and forced dad to buy a turkey that was too big to fit in the oven! I had a pizza pop and watched television for a while, but it wasn't anywhere near the same and the entire routine was thrown off. I changed out of my pyjamas and went to see what else I could do around the house.  
  
I found dad trying to figure out how to work his new cordless telephone (a gift from grandma and grandpa). He was convinced that it wasn't charging properly and/or was broken, until he remembered that he had to plug it into a telephone jack to get a dial tone. Then I found Elrohir, Orophin, and Thranduil playing Nintendo in the living room. They were all still wearing pyjamas. At first I thought Thranduil was Legolas, but then I remembered seeing Legolas in the kitchen trying to make cookies in the microwave. Thranduil turned away from Mario Kart long enough to ask me if I would take him shopping later. I told him I would, then quickly took off to hide so he wouldn't be able to call me on that promise.  
  
I went back to the kitchen to find Legolas. He was getting yelled at by his mother for spilling corn syrup all over the counter. I had nothing better to do so I helped Legolas clean it up. Legolas' mother told him I was a very good example and he should try to be more like me. He said he was, though he didn't elaborate so much as to tell us in what capacity. Then she asked me if I knew where Thranduil was. I told her he was playing Nintendo in the living room, and she made an exasperated sort of noise and muttered something about Thranduil being more like an extra child than a husband. I said yes, at his age, he should know better. She snorted and said, "No, at his age he's still fighting to overcome the urge to go out and get drunk with his buddies every weekend." Curiously, I asked her how old he was, and almost choked on my Five Alive when she said, in a disgusted voice, 3081.  
  
I suppose if I had been paying attention in my Mirkwood class, I would've learned that Thranduil became King at age 54, beating Gil-galad's youngest-ever-to-be-crowned record by 11 years. But I didn't pay attention, so I had to go look that up in the encyclopaedia in the den. I sat in a quiet corner by myself to get over the shock and do the math, and figured out that I am actually closer in age to Thranduil than to Legolas. Then I made a flowchart to get everything into perspective. The list of ages, from oldest to youngest, goes: Círdan, grandma or grandpa (grandpa claims time didn't exist before the rising of the Moon, so he doesn't know how old he is, but I think this is just a way to get out of admitting that he married an older woman), Glorfindel, Oropher, Erestor, Gil-galad, dad, mum, Haldir, Thranduil, Orophin, Elrohir and I, Rúmil, Arwen, Legolas. I had just about come to terms with that when the telephone rang.  
  
It was Glorfindel. I could hear a baby wailing in the background. I think he was trying to escape his ill-thought-out fatherhood role. I told him all about the terrific times we've been having here in Rivendell, and he kept asking questions in a voice that clearly sounded like he'd rather be here than wherever he was (probably Tirion). He was especially impressed by the entirely vegan supper, and thought that spending Fiommereth with Thranduil and company would be "fun". He said that supper with Finarfin had been the usual Noldorin three-kinds-of-meat affair, and he had been forced to wander the streets at midnight trying to find a falafel stand that was open. Of course he didn't find one, since all the Vanyarin immigrants who run the falafel stands are deeply religious and don't believe in working on holidays. He had to settle for a corporate franchise pita.  
  
I tried to change the subject to something more cheerful by mentioning that we all watched him on television, but he complained about that too. He doesn't like having to act as Finarfin's translator, especially since he has issues with Finarfin's traditional capitalist government and doesn't want to be associated with it in any way. In fact, he has recently joined the Socialist Labour Party and is considering running for office. I reminded him that he was afraid of television cameras and hated being interviewed. He said he was taking classes to get over that. Then I heard a crash and some yelling in the background, and Glorfindel said very quietly, "Shit, I have to go. Amma just dropped a pan of olive puffs and broke a tile. I'll ring back tomorrow. I don't have to pay the long distance here." I asked where he was and he said, "Finarfin's."  
  
Talking to Glorfindel always makes me feel better, since no matter what's going on, his life is always more screwed-up than mine.  
  
After that I went and found grandpa, who was sitting at the dining room table doing an enormous crossword puzzle that took up nearly an entire page of today's newspaper. I nicked the rest of the paper to read. A picture of dad and Thranduil shaking hands was on the front page. A picture of me with the headline "ELLADAN: Bright New Era" was on page three. I cut that out to give to grandma, so she could put it in her scrapbook beside the clipping of Elrohir after he won a giant stuffed frog from the ring toss game at the fair and the one of me from the Grey Havens Telegraph being interviewed on the street about new bus stops.  
  
I microwaved another pizza pop for supper and went to bed early to watch television. Haldir joined me for a while, but kept switching the channel to hockey. I was glad when he left so I could watch Biography in peace. It was a biography of Hador- one I'd never seen before. After that was a biography of dad, which I didn't need to watch, so I switched to the A Channel just in time to see the opening credits for the movie about Ingwë that Elrohir was in last spring. I yelled for him to come quick as I popped a blank tape into the video, and he came, towing Legolas and Orophin along with him. They all got very excited and ran to get everybody else. I lost my seat as dad, Erestor, grandma, grandpa and Círdan came in to watch and made me fold the hide-a-bed back up into a sofa. At the first commercial break Erestor went to microwave some popcorn and Orophin went to tell Rúmil and Ardlor, but they already knew and were watching it in their room with Haldir.  
  
Overall the movie was pretty cheesy and historically dubious, but still everyone was very proud to see Elrohir on television and not being interviewed about the unfairness of skateboarding bylaws for once. Dad said we could go out for supper tomorrow night to celebrate. Grandma said Elrohir was a very good Fëanor and that his movie was very nice, even though she did think the director should've found an actor without a Mirkwood accent to be Manwë's voice. Besides Glorfindel and Aralindë, I was able to pick out two extras that I recognised. A member of Finwë's entourage works at Taco Barn, and I went to high school with one of the palace guards.  
  
After everybody else left to go to bed, Legolas asked Elrohir for his autograph. Elrohir proudly signed Legolas' bum with a Sharpie, then took a picture of it with my new camera so Legolas could still have the autograph after the ink washed off. I now have a photo of Legolas' bum saved on my hard drive. The sad thing is, I can't decide whether that's good or bad.  
  
December 27th  
  
Thranduil is addicted to drugs. And not the usual kind of drugs that normal people are addicted to, like cocaine and heroin. No, Thranduil has to be different, and is addicted to all the perfectly legal drugs one can buy at any apothecary. So far today I have watched him consume: two Tylenol with codeine, two Advil, one Aspirin, a generic brand acetaminophen gel cap, three pink somethings that came out of a blister pack, a spoonful of protein powder dissolved in fruit juice, a vitamin A pill, four different B vitamin pills, six vitamin Cs (both large orange flavoured and small unflavoured), a vitamin E gel cap, calcium with vitamin O, a Centrum for women who are trying to get pregnant (snitched from his wife when he couldn't find his own regular Centrum), iron supplement, and more caffeine pills than I'm sure are necessary.  
  
I took him shopping this morning to get away from the house, where the phone kept going off every other minute. People were ringing to congratulate Elrohir on the movie. Agencies were ringing to ask if he had representation. Various local businesses were ringing to enquire after his availability for locally-produced advertisements. The U of R rang to ask him to come back to their theatre honours program, and even offered to overlook all the fails on his transcript. Dad started to get rather rude in his telephone-answering after the first twenty. So when Thranduil asked again if I would take him shopping, I jumped at the opportunity.  
  
I thought he'd probably want to go to the usual shopping centres to look around, but while driving past Super Drug Mart he yelled, "There! Let's go there!" We went there, and stayed for well over two hours. Thranduil was in a state of bliss looking over two entire aisles of non-prescription treasures to purchase. I did three tours around the store, spending as much time as one could possibly spend looking at shampoo, deodorant, hair colourant and batteries. Then, when Thranduil still wasn't done filling his basket with everything that looked remotely useful, I stood behind him ominously and hoped he'd get the hint. He didn't. Forty minutes and almost three hundred dollars later, we were finally back in the car. I was glad he didn't want to go anywhere else.  
  
As we drove home he listed his inventory of purchases to me. He bought the regular assortment of vitamins plus various new exotic plant extracts and powders of stuff I've never heard of, pills to take away muscle pain, pills to take away joint pain, pills to take away tension pain, pills to take away generic all-over pain, pills to gain weight, pills to lose weight, pills to go to sleep, pills to wake up, pills to stay awake, pills to stay asleep, pills to maximise food energy, pills to augment food energy, pills to replace food energy, pills for fresh breath, pills for shiny hair, pills for clear skin, pills to clear one's system of toxins, pills to keep one's system toxin-free, and pills to maximise the effect of other pills. He also bought a tube of Blistex.  
  
When we got home I asked his wife about his pill dependence. She said it stemmed from insecurity over being noticeably short and started with him ordering a jar of Muscle Man pills from the back of a comic book when he was in school. To this day, every time she wears high heels it sets him off on a serious protein pill binge. They are the exact same height in flat shoes and he can't handle any artificial height difference. Then I watched her take one of her trying-to-get-pregnant vitamins. I'm not sure why she wants those, since she and Thranduil have seven kids already. I think they are both a bit wacko.  
  
Just after supper, Glorfindel rang Thranduil's mobile. After chatting for a few minutes and not getting anywhere because Thranduil had taken a few too many caffeine pills and kept going off on tangents of very fast but nonsensical speech, he asked to speak to me. He asked me if the telephone was off the hook, because he'd been trying to get through all of last night and all of this morning (his time, I'm guessing). But before I could explain the situation of Elrohir being a celebrity, he told me that everything in Tirion is good and started talking about Elairon. I think Glorfindel is on drugs too, but the illegal sort. He sounded far mellower than his situation warrants and said "fantastic" very slowly, four times. I passed him off to Erestor next, then Erestor handed him off to dad, and dad passed him over to grandma. He and grandma talked for a good while until grandma said, "No! No, I refuse to- Don't you dare! Glorfindel, if you even think of... Oh hallo atto."  
  
The next few minutes were rather awkward as she gave Finarfin a brief summary of her life these past seven thousand years, speaking in funny Quenya that sounded like it was halfway between the proper kind I learn in school and the kind Glorfindel speaks. The House of Finarfin seems to have a dialect unto itself. She informed her father that she was married now and had one daughter and three grandchildren, so I'm guessing they haven't spoken in a long while. Then Finarfin must've asked to speak to grandpa, the heathen dark Elf for whom grandma abandoned her culture and birthright, because she scowled and passed the phone to him. He looked confused and kept saying, "I'm sorry, I don't understand you... I don't speak your language..." then gave up and handed the phone to Erestor, who finished the conversation pretending to be grandpa. When it was all over grandpa worriedly asked, "What did you say?" Erestor said, "I told him that I, meaning you, met Galadriel while fox hunting with Fingolfin in Dor Lómin, and was made an honorary member of Fingolfin's court for my skill and horsemanship. He seemed to like that."  
  
Grandpa went a bit bonkers and shouted, "But that never happened! We met at Daeron's birthday luau! What if he finds out and thinks I'm a liar?!" Grandma said, "Don't be absurd. How would he ever find out?" Just then Thranduil's mobile rang again. I answered. It was Glorfindel. Glorfindel said, "Why did Celeborn tell Finarfin he met Galadriel while fox hunting? Finrod just said those two met at Daeron's birthday party during Galadriel's first week in Doriath, after Aegnor got drunk on sambucca and knocked a tiki torch into the lilac tree. It's causing mass confusion!" I could hear confused shouting in the background. Obviously the news of grandma and grandpa's backyard barbeque liaison was causing Finarfin serious grief. Grandma and grandpa didn't need to know that though, so I said, "I'm sorry, we're not interested," and disconnected. Thranduil asked who it was, just in case he was interested. I told him it was carpet cleaners. Then he got upset because his carpets at home really did need cleaning, and he'd been waiting for months for somebody to telephone him with a deal.  
  
At about this point I realised I had a terrible headache, so I went to lie down in the den. Elrohir and Legolas were playing Bust-A-Move. The electronic music and bleepy sounds were soothing after the cacophony of everybody shouting about fox hunts and luaus. We never did go out for supper. Clearly, dad is a liar.  
  
December 28th  
  
Dad has had it up to here with all the fuss over Elrohir's movie and discussion of Daeron's birthday luau. He marched into the den around midnight last night and said, "We are leaving town." Elrohir asked where we were going, and dad said, "We are going skiing." I asked if this was Thranduil's idea. Dad said no, but I think he was lying again. Then he told us we would be leaving today at noon. That is inadequate time in which to prepare for a ski vacation, I think. I can't remember where I stored my ski kit, or my skis for that matter. Elrohir and I searched through all the bags of clothes in the garage, but all we found were some very old things of his. I think I might be forced to wear his old snowboard gear with duct tape on the bum. People will think dad neglects me. Which is actually true, but what can you expect from someone of his upbringing? His idea of quality family time is all of us being in the same building at the same time.  
  
Rúmil and Ardlor are not coming skiing. They have had enough quaint family holidaying to last forever, and have opted to check into the Marriott downtown until the movie people get their housing situation sorted out. Haldir and Orophin are not coming skiing either, but are staying here to water our plants, feed the iguana, and continue the quest to find the cat (who has been eating her food every night but has not been seen in weeks). Círdan's flight back to the Grey Havens leaves on the 30th, so he's staying with Haldir and Orophin until then. Grandma and grandpa are coming along to the resort but are not going to ski, and Thranduil's small army is coming in full force. We have six rooms booked at the Anorhíl Village Fairmont starting tomorrow night. I just know I'm going to be stuck sharing with Elrohir and Legolas. I just know it.  
  
December 29th  
  
We stayed at the Red Carpet Inn, arriving late last night. It was surprisingly nice for a ski town motel that only charges $79 per night. It had new carpet, new paint, new wall paper, and furniture that wasn't all scuffed up. It made me uneasy wondering how it could possibly be so cheap. Then I finally noticed all the religious things. All the books for sale in the lobby had titles like "Eru Made Elves", the postcards were pictures of things like the nearby monument to Elbereth, there was a prayer book and a guide to local temples in the bedside table, and a framed proverb about the Valar on the wall above the telly. The owners were seducing us with cheap rates and then forcing their religious views on us hapless victims, and I pointed all this out to Elrohir and Legolas as we unpacked our things in the room we were stuck sharing. Elrohir wondered why a religious motel would be called the Red Carpet Inn. Legolas said, "I bet Elbereth's dog sleeps on a red carpet." He and Elrohir were up half the night discussing the likelihood of Elbereth owning a dog.  
  
Dad woke us up at six this morning so we wouldn't miss a minute of skiing fun. I groggily got dressed in my crappy ski gear, packed up my things, and stumbled down to the car. It was still dark outside. Dad was in such a hurry to get going that we didn't even have time for a proper breakfast- we just got donuts from a drive-through window. I fell asleep on the drive up the mountain. So did Elrohir and Legolas, and we all ended up sort of flopped against each other in the back seat of Erestor's Tempo. Erestor took a picture with my camera and showed us when we woke up. From the angle of the photo, it looks like Legolas' hand is in a very awkward spot in my lap. At least I'm hoping it's just the angle of the photo.  
  
As we pulled into the car park at Anorhíl ski resort, I could clearly see the big scrolling screen atop the gondola lodge displaying "DECEMBER 29TH" and "BASE TEMP -29° VILLAGE TEMP -32°". Elrohir was first out of the car, and he said, "Crap it's cold!" I followed him out and had to agree. Erestor said, "I'm not skiing in this weather," and that started an argument between him and dad, over pre-purchased lift tickets and a non-refundability clause. I slunk off to the ski rental queue so I wouldn't have to listen to them. By the time I got back things had quietened down, but only because they weren't on speaking terms any more. Dad silently handed me my lift pass, and I went to join Elrohir and Legolas in the gondola line. According to grandma, who showed up sometime later, dad and Erestor went up the hill in separate gondolas.  
  
At the top of the gondola were four chair lifts. It was so cold that Legolas and I decided to go up the shortest chair. By the time we came back down we had to sit in the day lodge for fifteen minutes to warm up our frozen hands and feet. Then we did one more run, then sat in the lodge for another fifteen minutes. The entire morning passed like that, until we met up with Elrohir, who was shivering so much he couldn't talk properly. We sat in the lodge for half an hour and had a lunch of hot soup. Then, since we were feeling a bit more adventurous and since we heard on the lodge radio that the temperature had gone up to -27, we set off to go up the Eagle chair and then the Summit chair to the top of the mountain. We had to sit in the cookie shack at the top of the Summit chair for fifteen minutes to warm up, and then come back in to the day lodge for hot chocolate once we got to the bottom. In total, I think I spent twice as much time in the day lodge as I did actually skiing.  
  
At 4.30 when the lifts closed, we hauled all our crap up to the on-hill hotel. Grandpa and Erestor were sitting in the lobby playing cards. As I tried to coax circulation back into my fingers, I couldn't help but think that they had the right idea. Erestor said that he had already checked us in, and handed Elrohir, Legolas and me our key cards. We are sharing a room, of course. It is between dad and Erestor's room and Thranduil's room. I am going to be hearing noises filtering through both walls all night, between the trying-to-get-pregnant vitamins and the inevitable apology sex.  
  
All our bags had already been brought up to the room. I changed out of my ski things and immediately flopped down on one of the beds, and must have fallen asleep straight away. I am clearly not in very good shape if a day of sitting around in the lodge and some skiing can wear me out like that. But I woke up to dad shaking me, saying it was time to go for supper. I was too tired to want to go for supper, but also too hungry to want to stay in bed, so I settled halfway and wore my pyjamas down to the dining room. Dad made a disapproving face, but I don't think anyone else noticed, since my pyjamas consist of GHU sweats and tee-shirt. I ordered fish sticks. I think the pyjamas were preventing me from wanting to order anything remotely resembling adult food, like chicken stuffed with mushrooms or grilled vegetables on soy noodles. Thranduil didn't join us for supper. I'm pretty sure he was still out on the hill, walking up and skiing down.  
  
After supper I went down to the pool and sat in the hot tub with grandma for a while, but she got mad at me for calling her "grandma" while she was shamelessly flirting with some college boys. Then she got madder at me when they started laughing and called her a cougar. I left the pool area and went to watch television with grandpa, only he kept falling asleep in the recliner and wasn't very good company. So after wandering around the hotel corridors aimlessly for about half an hour, I gave up and went back to the room. The television was showing music videos and Elrohir and Legolas were sitting on the bed, surrounded by candy. They had spent thirty eight dollars on candy at the gift shop, and were arm wrestling over the last Reese cup. I solved the dilemma and ate it for them. Then, once they were good and hyper from all the sugar and chemicals, they went down to the pool to go water sliding. Elrohir thought it would be the funniest thing ever to wear two bathing suits at the same time, so he did. Experience is telling me that they'll be kicked out within the hour.  
  
December 30th  
  
When dad came to wake us up this morning, he got confused when he saw four pair of swim shorts drying on the radiator and only three of us in the room. The problem will likely stay with him for the rest of the day.  
  
I didn't really want to go skiing, but Elrohir wanted me to take some action photos of him going over jumps, so I figured I might as well. I spent a lot of time huddled near the bottom of snowboard jumps, watching for Elrohir and trying to keep warm. After three hours I only had two decent shots because I kept having to stick my camera down the front of my parka to warm it up and I missed the jumps. Then dad happened to ski by, and he insisted on taking us all up to the highest peak on the Top of the World T-bar. I couldn't feel my hands by the time we got to the top, and then I still had to face the long ski down. It was followed by a good forty minutes in the day lodge, drinking cider and eating stew. Legolas joined me halfway through. He sat down, put his head in his hands, and said, "I never want to go outside again." Thranduil had made him go down a run on the south side of the mountain, and he took a wrong turn and got stuck in a valley full of trees. He still had pine needles on his hat.  
  
We waited until dad and Thranduil came in for lunch and told them we were off to explore some new runs we hadn't done yet. Then, as soon as they were safely in the hamburger queue and unable to watch us, we went straight to the hotel and dumped our skis in the locker room. We spent the rest of the afternoon looking in the hotel gift shops, watching an ice sculpture contest, and posing as EnMax employees to get in on a complimentary wine and cheese reception. At four we changed back into our ski clothes and went and sat in the day lodge to wait for Elrohir. All in all, it was much better than actually skiing.  
  
December 31st  
  
I looked at my ski pass this morning and saw that it was good through to January 2nd. I can't take that much skiing! Legolas and I are running out of creative ways to stay inside. Erestor spotted us in the games room today. We went back outside after that, but I had to stoop to pretending to twist my ankle to get out of going up the Top of the World tee-bar with dad again.  
  
The only thing I can think of now is to get really hammered tonight at the hotel's New Years' celebration and hopefully wind up with too bad a hangover to be able to ski tomorrow.  
  
January 1st, 3020  
  
Got hammered as per plan, and suffered through the resulting bad hangover. Unfortunately, dad thought that fresh air and exercise would be the perfect cure for said hangover, so I had to go skiing today after all. Even worse, he stuck by my side every minute to make sure I was getting the most out of it. The only up side was that it wasn't so cold today. Only -19. Only! Ha! I can't wait to get back to the Grey Havens. The entire city shuts down if the temperature drops below -10.  
  
I can't really remember which runs dad and I did. I only remember being cold and trying not to fall. I kept looking at my watch, but noon couldn't come fast enough. Then when it did come, lunch sped by, and I was back on the hill again with dad. Elrohir also joined us. Then I kept looking at my watch waiting for 4.30 to come. Then when 4.30 finally came, I went straight to my room and fell asleep. I woke up at ten, and I haven't been able to get back to sleep. My plans never work out right! Tomorrow I will have to ask Elrohir to help me think up a get-out-of-skiing plan. For some reason, his zany schemes have a higher rate of success.  
  
January 2nd  
  
The scheme Elrohir came up with sounded brilliant at first, and probably was brilliant until I actually tried to pull it off. His idea was for me to rent a snowboard for the day, thus being able to stay on the beginner hill and far away from dad. Everything went wonderfully until I actually tried to snowboard.  
  
I couldn't even stand up on the dumb thing. Every time I got myself almost vertical, I started to tip either forward or backward. Within minutes, both my wrists and my bum were aching. Then, once I had almost mastered the standing up part, Elrohir forced me to try the moving part. I fell over many more times. The next several hours went more or less along those same lines. But after lunch I managed to slide about ten metres without falling over. After another hour, I was up to twenty metres. Finally, by the end of the day, I could go the length of the rope tow without falling. I still couldn't stop properly, though. My stopping method consisted of falling over. If I were a character in a romance novel, I just know some dashing snowboard pro would have come swooshing up to offer me the benefit of his expertise (among other things). But alas I am only me, and the only snowboard genius around was Elrohir, who seemed more concerned with writing "X-MEN HELLO" in the snow than helping me learn how to not fall over.  
  
However, Elrohir and I did manage to spend the entire day doing pretty much nothing, and it went much more quickly than being dragged all over the mountain by dad. Also falling over is hard work. I was actually sweating by the end of the afternoon. Legolas, unfortunately, wasn't so lucky. Thranduil had dragged him through all sorts of expert-only runs and dubious trails through the trees, where he cracked one of his ski boots. He fell asleep in the gondola on the way back down to the car park, and slept in the car on the entire long drive back to Rivendell. I tried to sleep, but between his and Elrohir's snoring there was no way. I was forced to talk to dad and Erestor instead. That became awkward after a few seconds, so dad decided to put on a tape. The only tape we could all agree on was Blondie. We listened to a continuous Blondie loop all the way home.  
  
January 3rd  
  
There were well over 100 unheard messages on our answering service when we got home. Dad made me listen to them all this morning and delete everything he didn't need to hear. I deleted 136 messages and kept three. The first one was from Círdan, saying he arrived safely back at the Grey Havens, though he thinks he left his hand towel in the bathroom. The second was from Glorfindel, wondering where we were. There were four other messages from Glorfindel as well, but I only kept the most recent one. Then the third was from Aerthos. I immediately felt sort of bad for not telephoning him in weeks. He sounded a bit sad on the message. Also a bit mad at me. Probably more mad at me than sad. I would have telephoned him right then, but it was time to take grandma and grandpa and Haldir and Orophin to the airport.  
  
I rang him once I got back. I tried to say that it wasn't for lack of interest that I hadn't telephoned earlier, and told him about the extra guests and Thranduil and the skiing adventure, but all he said was, "Oh." Then I asked him about his holidays. He said he spend a usual Fiommereth in Forlond with his parents. His aunt and uncle came over for turkey dinner one night, but that's about it. I said it sounded very relaxing and unstressful. He said it was boring and he wished I had been around. I told him I'd be back at the Grey Havens tomorrow, but even that didn't do much to make him sound cheerier. In fact the entire conversation was pretty depressing. After a few minutes I couldn't take it any more so I lied and told him that dad needed to use the telephone for important government business. I am a terrible boyfriend. I kept hoping dad would show up within a few seconds and say he really did need to use the telephone, thus removing a bit of my guilt, but no such luck. He was too busy helping Erestor undecorated the house.  
  
After packing up all my things and getting ready to go back to the Grey Havens tomorrow, I went to spend a last few quality hours in the den with Elrohir and Legolas. Unfortunately they weren't in the den, so I got to spend a few quality hours with them in the kitchen. They were holding scientific trials to figure out which soft drinks best went with which foods. According to their findings, Coke goes well with chilli but tastes like dust when mixed with Dentyne, Fresca goes with pickles but not with chicken soup, Sprite goes with almost everything and is best with noodles, and Junior Mints nullify the taste of Dr. Pepper. I asked which soft drink they'd recommend to go with Pizza Pops, and they said Orange Crush. We had Pizza Pops with Orange Crush for supper, followed by a desert of Jolly Ranchers and lemon tea. It was all surprisingly harmonious. Elrohir truly is a junk food connoisseur.  
  
I am going to miss interesting suppers like that when I get back to residence, where they feed us almost exclusively pasta and hamburgers.  



	7. The Elladan Show 7

January 4th  
  
I am back in my dorm room, all alone, by myself. It is more than a little depressing after a holiday spent at home in dad's spacious house with all those very active people, but at least it is quiet. And I have a few activities to occupy me and take my mind off how boring it is here. Those should last me at least another half-hour, so provided something very exciting happens at the end of that time, I'll be set for tonight.  
  
I've already unpacked everything and rearranged my room, deciding that I'd rather have my bed under the window and my desk along the wall by the door. That took some manoeuvring, since there was nowhere to put the one when I was moving the other. My bed spent a good few minutes out in the hall. I hope nobody was trying to get past during that time. Then the telephone rang while I had my desk sideways and I was sort of trapped in the corner, and when I tried to answer I knocked the phone off the table where it was precariously balanced and it disconnected. It was probably Aerthos on the line. I should ring him later.  
  
When Elrohir stopped by after supper, he was quite impressed that I had taken the effort to rearrange my room. Apparently he considers such creative endeavours to be above my meagre talents. He approves of the bed by the window, even if it does block six inches of the closet. His own bed is currently wedged between his desk and the wall, on a slight tilt, to give him two square metres of floor space to lie down and play Nintendo in comfort, though he is considering getting rid of the bed altogether and just covering the floor in pillows so he can simply fall asleep wherever he ends up at night. I'm sure that's against dorm regulations, but apparently he's been elected the new floor monitor so nobody's going to call him on it.  
  
How is this possible? Elrohir the floor monitor? Is the building supervisor insane?! He could have at least picked somebody responsible, somebody who has memorised the list of what's against dorm regulations, somebody who knows the fire safety code, and maybe even somebody who has intentions to become some sort of leader on a larger scale. Somebody like me, for instance. I am a Poli Sci major! I will be PM of Rivendell one day! I am meant to be floor monitor! Apparently all these classes are a sham if politics is all one big popularity contest anyhow.  
  
Speaking of classes, my first one of the semester starts at noon tomorrow. It is my Poli Sci 486AE directed study, focusing on modern leadership strategies and goals. Afterward I have conversational Quenya 400, with Elrohir. I'm dreading that stupid class already. Tuesday at 10 is Kinesiology 310, more commonly known as phys ed. I signed up for the badminton class in hope that there won't be too much lap-running involved. Then after that comes Poli Sci 442, Elven Governments in Middle-earth. My fifth class is just an elective to fill time and get the final three credits, so I chose the easiest thing I could think of. Elrohir's in it, which may or may not be a good sign, but I signed up for Theatre Design 120: prop making. I'll have to see how that goes. I'm really hoping it just involves making things like fake swords and break-away chairs, and that I don't have to do any actual research.  
  
January 5th  
  
I am the only person in my 486 class. Nobody else wanted a directed study in modern leadership strategies and goals, so it's just me and the professor, sitting in her office and talking about stuff. The first thing she did was ask me why I wanted to go into politics. I said, "If I'm not elected PM of Rivendell within the next three years, my dad will kill me. He wants to retire in Valinor and needs me to take his place." She didn't seem to think that was the right answer. We talked for a bit about what politicians do and if that sounds like the right career choice for me, and then she asked what I would do with my life if dad didn't have any plans for me. I told her I wanted to be a flight attendant. I have no idea what made me say that, but it was the first thing that came into my mind and out of my mouth. She gave me a funny look and steered quickly back to the topic of politics. The class is supposed to be an hour and a half, but we only met for about forty minutes. At the end of it she told me to write a six-to-eight-page report on a politician I admired, due next Monday. She also said not to bother coming to class on Wednesday, since there would be nothing to do. This sounds like it might be easy.  
  
In Quenya I sat across the room from Elrohir, hoping that would prevent us from being paired up for assignments. It seemed to work. I was paired with a girl who had very large eyes. She blinked far more often than a regular person- at least once per second. It was distracting, and I kept screwing up our conversation about the holidays by saying "hendu" instead of her name. Elrohir was stuck with Nova. I think she wants him back now that he's a movie star.  
  
Then when I got back to my room I rang Aerthos. He wanted to come over, but for whatever reason I wasn't really up to seeing him. So I told him that my room was in a bit of chaos due to poorly-thought-out reorganisation (which was true), and that I was tired and had an early class tomorrow (which was not). We agreed to meet for lunch before Poli Sci 442, though, which we have together. He sounded a bit antsy. I felt a bit dreading-ish. I think I might be going off him.  
  
Also, after further consideration, I have decided that I really don't want to be a flight attendant at all. I hate airports, the stuffy dry air inside planes makes me sneeze, I can't stand doing things for people, and I've never gotten along with children. And one must be fully trilingual in Sindarin, Quenya and Westron to work for any of the major airlines in Rivendell or the Grey Havens, which I am not. I could be a flight attendant in Mirkwood, since one only needs to speak Sindarin there, but then I'd have to live in Mirkwood.  
  
January 6th  
  
We played badminton in P.E. as per the syllabus, and ran no laps. If the rest of the semester stays just like this, I will be happy.  
  
After I showered and changed back into regular clothes I went to meet Aerthos in the food court for lunch. I found him standing in front of Pizza Pizza, looking unenthusiastically at a congealed slice of pepperoni. I was feeling a bit devious right then, so I snuck up behind him, grabbed him around the waist, and spun around a few times. He made a great squeaking sound, and his hair smelled like peaches. Unfortunately he then punched me in the arm for scaring him like that, though it was followed by a hug and many affectionate insults, so everything worked out alright. I think I do still like him after all. Especially when he smells like peaches.  
  
I got some sort of stir fry noodle bowl and he took his congealed pizza, and we sat in the corner of the food court. Everything was going perfectly normally, with us talking about Fiommereth and new classes and so forth, until he had to go and bugger it up by asking if I want to move in with him. Move in with him! We've only been dating for two months (or less than one and a half if you subtract the time I was away at home), and already he wants this big commitment thing! I didn't know what to say. Which was good, because he said, "You don't have to answer right away. Just consider it." Then he told me that his roommate got married over the holidays and moved out to live with his new wife, and now he's trying to find a replacement and would like that replacement to be me. I told him I would consider it, even though the prospect was a bit frightening.  
  
During class I made a list of the pros and cons of living with Aerthos:  
  
PROS:  
Would force me to take this relationship more seriously  
Would get me out of tiny crappy dorm room  
Would have space to put things, not to mention own bathroom  
Would greatly increase probability of getting lucky every night  
  
CONS:  
Would probably make me sick of Aerthos within a week  
Would make Elrohir jealous  
Would force me to cook and clean  
Dad would certainly not approve  
  
Aerthos invited me round to the house to check things out after supper tomorrow night. I think he expects me to have made a decision by then.  
  
January 7th  
  
Couldn't concentrate in Quenya today for worrying about moving in with Aerthos. Or maybe it was because we were learning technical vocabulary. Either way, I accomplished nothing and will have three sheets of fill-in-the-blanks work about occupational health and safety to do for next class. Afterward I asked Elrohir what he thought, and he didn't seem too thrilled at the idea of me leaving him alone in residence. Just like I suspected, he was jealous. Then I rang dad to ask what he thought, hoping he would forbid me from leaving the dorm and thus making the decision very easy. But instead he told me that he was happy for me to finally be part of a decent relationship, and that he thought it would be a step in the right direction. Happy for me! And he's all for it! This is certainly a conflict of interests. Not to mention no help to me whatsoever. I might have to flip a coin. Or ring a psychic hotline for advice.  
  
January 8th  
  
I ended up telling Aerthos I would be unable to move in with him, due to Elrohir being jealous and lonely. He very unexpectedly replied, "There's another bedroom in the basement that Elrohir is welcome to have if he wants to come too." The room was unfinished and had concrete floors and no door, but Elrohir probably wouldn't mind.  
  
Now I really don't know what to do. I have lived in a non-supervised house with Elrohir before. The result is not pretty.  
  
Also, we had to run laps and play basketball in PE, and some dunce hit me in the back of the head with one of the balls. That just put a damper on the whole day.  
  
January 9th  
  
Elrohir is not up for moving. Now that he's been elected floor monitor, he has real power (insofar as "power" means "the ability to tell people to keep it down and stop running") and isn't about to give that up. Not even for the prospect of a real bathroom and lights that aren't fluorescents.  
  
But still, the more I think about it, the more I think I want to move out. Not specifically to be with Aerthos, but to get away from Residence.  
  
Last night the yob in the next room was playing 50 Cent until half three, and somebody was talking loudly in the corridor. I would complain to the floor monitor, but I'm highly suspicious that he was, if not a perpetrator, then at least a participant in both infractions. And said infractions are starting to bother me more and more the longer I think about a good night's rest in a nice quiet house away from the uni. I can hear people getting up to brush their teeth or go to the biff. Every shuffle outside my door brings me closer and closer to taking Aerthos up on his offer.  
  
January 10th  
  
I rang Aerthos at 8.30 a.m. to say I would be moving in sometime in the coming week. The entire building was awakened early this morning by a fire alarm, which caused us all to trudge outside in the slush until the problem could be addressed. The problem was a bunch of first-years having a séance and burning strange concoctions in the girls' lavatory. I will not be sorry to leave this place behind.  
  
Aerthos said, "Oh." There was something of an uncomfortable pause. I said, "What?" He said, "I thought you chose not to move in here. I told my old roommate's cousin he could have the room last night."  
  
For all the worrying and dithering I did over the stupid room, I am more than a little disappointed and upset. Now every blaring stereo, every video game, and every toga party is going to seem twice as annoying, since I had the chance to move out but missed it! I should be kicking myself. Should be, but I just remembered I have homework. How does this stuff creep up on me? I have to write that dumb report about a politician I admire. Really, I don't admire any of them. They're all equally dull. Except Maeglin. I ought to write about him, just to see what would happen. Apart from getting kicked out of school and sent to a therapist...  
  
January 11th  
  
I wrote my paper about Glorfindel. He isn't really a politician (yet), but he's the only politically-related person I can think of whom I admire. Even if he is a knob half the time and ingests too many controlled substances. Glorfindel has stood as an admirable opposition to every boring Noldorin political regime since Fingolfin, and has even been arrested because of it. It is probably through his friendship with Thranduil alone that Mirkwood hasn't become alienated from Rivendell completely. And now (at least according to his latest email) he wants to challenge Finarfin's poor social record as well. All that and he claims to have been born in a one-room hut in one of the poorest areas of Valmar (I'm not sure if that's true, having been unable to contact his mum to verify the claim, but it makes for a good story).  
  
Best of all, I was able to write a nine-page paper about Glorfindel without consulting any books or legitimate academic sources whatsoever. I think I'm finally getting better at this university thing.  
  
January 12th  
  
Tryouts for the Orc Killing team were announced in P.E. today. There was a murmur going through the locker room that there aren't enough orcs about to kill any more, and some blockheaded environmental studies student said they were becoming an endangered species, but still tryouts are being held on Saturday afternoon. I'm torn between wanting to try out and knowing that it'll take up too much of my free time, especially now that all events will have to be held further north up in the mountains due to dwindling orc populations. Travel time alone will be ghastly. I asked Aerthos what he thought while we had lunch in the food court, but all he said was, "You're not serious, are you?"  
  
I tried to explain that orc killing is actually one of the few things I'm still good at (now that my computer pinball skills have gone completely down the drain), and besides it leads to fresh air and exercise. He only made a face and said that it's messy. He didn't understand why an "archaic, barbaric pass-time" like riding around on a horse with a bow and shooting "some poor orc" could be considered a sport. Some poor orc my heinie! He has obviously never met one in the wild. They are awful, miserable things, and smell worse than the bears at the zoo.  
  
As can be expected, the remainder of lunch was coolly awkward. I will have to remember not to mention orcs around him again, and not to wear my GHU Orc Killing Team jersey from two years ago when he's looking.  
  
January 14th  
  
While hot-gluing felt and styrofoam packing peanuts to a plastic dinghy paddle in the prop-making class today, I asked Elrohir if he was going to be trying out for the Orc Killing team. He said no, he was trying out for the theatre group instead. This year they're putting on a new play that's never been performed before. He wouldn't tell me any more than it's a rock opera, but he sounded unduly excited and full of beans so I know there's something more going on. It's probably a rock opera about iguanas. Or maybe it just has lots of foul language and nudity. In either case, I should probably worry about it.  
  
January 16th  
  
There has been an Incident.  
  
Erestor left dad this morning after a row over an unwashed porridge pot. My telephone started ringing at eleven sharp, first dad, then Erestor, so I got to hear both sides of the story.  
  
Dad is fed up with Erestor's porridge habits. Every morning, dad gets up and makes himself a breakfast of toast and either scrambled eggs or Corn Flakes. Erestor gets up slightly later and makes his breakfast as dad is leaving for work. He always makes porridge (or sometimes Cream of Wheat or Sunny Boy), and then leaves the porridge pot on the stove to get crusty all day. Dad, who leaves work before Erestor, always comes home to the sight of the dirty porridge pot on the stove. He has had enough.  
  
Erestor claims he doesn't have time to wash the porridge pot before he leaves for work, and that he washes it when he does the supper dishes. He could leave it to soak in the sink so that it doesn't get crusty, but that would result in water spots on his good pots. Erestor prides himself on shiny kitchenware. He doesn't see any problem with leaving the crusty porridge pot out if it's eventually going to get washed.  
  
However. This morning, dad was pushed to the limits of porridge pot tolerance. Being Saturday, Erestor didn't have to go to work, and therefore had time after breakfast to wash the porridge pot. But still he left it to sit on the stove. So dad, fuelled by years of pent-up frustration, set the dirty pot prominently on Erestor's pillow. Chaos erupted when Erestor found it as he went to get dressed after his shower. Erestor left in a fury and now resides in Lindir's spare room. Lindir, he says, has a new Teflon kitchen set, so crusty porridge residue won't be an issue when it comes time to do the washing-up.  
  
I tried my best to sound concerned and sympathetic, really I did.  
  
It is my experience that the world grows narrower in direct proportion to a person's age, so that by the time you're 6000 or so the most pressing issues in your life revolve around things like offensive porridge pots and annoying habits of the significant other. I know grandpa's main worries are that grandma will forget to clean the lint trap on the dryer, which will start the ducts on fire, and that she'll leave the car parked out of the garage where birds can poop on the windscreen. Judging from his example, dad and Erestor are only going to get worse.  
  
Then Glorfindel rang. He said had stolen Finarfin's mobile and was currently standing in a large crowd at the base of the Mindon Eldaliéva in downtown Tirion, waiting for Ingwë to appear so Aralindë can take her oath of servitude and be properly converted to the Vanyarin religion so they can get married in twelve hours. He also said it was raining. I had to ask him to repeat the first part, so he explained in a bit more detail that since Ingwë was in Tirion for whatever reason, this was their one chance to have Aralindë make her promises of Valadáva so that their Tirion civil marriage becomes valid in the eyes of the Vanyarin religious nuts and they can travel to Valmar this afternoon for their proper Vanyarin marriage without being arrested for unlawful sexual congress. At least that's what I think he said. I didn't really understand most of it, so I just made interested "huh" sorts of noises and said "Sounds good." I think he also might have mentioned something about Aralindë having to pretend to be a virgin.  
  
Then I heard a large cheer, which I assume meant Ingwë had shown up, and Glorfindel passed the phone off to Aralindë. I didn't have much to say to her. I asked how the ceremony was going so far, and she said it sucked and that the Mindon was stupid because it didn't have any awnings to stand under and get out of the rain, which was ruining the fancy Vanya costume Glorfindel made her wear. Then she started off on a tangent about how she really wants to move to Valmar, where Glorfindel claims the weather is always perfect (even though he's not been there in 7000-odd years), though she still really likes Tirion, but not Formenos because the people there are rude and ignorant, and how come it's considered racist to say you hate, say, Vanyar or Teleri, but perfectly fine to say you hate people from Formenos? And of course she's not racist, because she's marrying a visible minority, even though the Vanyarin population in Tirion is steadily on the rise, so will they really still be a minority in another thousand years?  
  
She briefly stopped talking right then, so I took the opportunity to say, "I don't know." Then there was an awkward pause. Then she started talking again, about everything from lychee nuts (which are spelled "laici" instead of "lychee" in Aman, she found out) to being sort of rich vs. being incredibly rich, and everything in between. And I mean everything. That girl talked for at least half an hour while Glorfindel was off tying to discover Ingwë. She only stopped when the batteries on Finarfin's mobile started running down. I told her to remind Glorfindel that he still has not answered my latest email. She disconnected, and I was left to sit on my bed for several minutes trying to sort out all the information and get hold of my thoughts.  
  
Of course all the excitement made me completely forget about the Orc Killing Team tryout. I looked at the clock, saw it was nearly three, and panicked. I pulled on the first exercise-type clothes I could find, bunched my hair into a truly awful pigtail, and went to grab my bow from the closet. Curiously, it was missing. I KNOW it was there because I just PUT it there specifically the other night, having fetched it from the storage locker knowing that I'd need it for today. But still I looked everywhere else: under the desk, under the bed, between the closet and the desk, behind the door. There are only so many places a four-foot-long bow can hide in a small college dorm room.  
  
At three I had to give up and run over to playing field eight, which is about as far from the Mindon as a person can get without actually leaving university property. I was just in time to find out I'd missed the endurance trials. The equipment manager allotted me a substandard fibreglass bow and told to stand at the far left with the first years. The coach even sneered at me. I didn't even get to take any practice shots to get used to my substandard fibreglass bow before it was my turn at the target.  
  
Now normally, I am good at archery and can hit most any target without a problem. Today, however, with my substandard fibreglass bow, my arrow fell two metres short of the target-like straw bales. Even the first years laughed. My second shot fell a few inches short, and the third shot hit the white part of the paper surrounding the bull's eye. I was easily the worst one there, so it came as no surprise when none of the thirty names called to advance to the next round of tryouts (the riding part) was my name. I headed back to my dorm room, disgusted with myself, and changed back into clothes that didn't remind me of anything to do with teams or tryouts or physical activity of any sort. Then I sat in front of Elrohir's door in a murderous rage and waited for him to come back from wherever he had buggered off to.  
  
Sure enough, when Elrohir came back, he was carrying my bow. And his own. I politely asked what the fuck he thought he was doing. Sensing nothing wrong, he casually explained that he was practising for theatre group tryouts. I couldn't see the logic in him needing two bows for that, or even one. He said he was trying out for the role of Gil-galad. I still couldn't see the logic in him needing two bows for that. He said he thought he remembered reading on the internet somewhere about Gil-galad using two bows at once. I told him such a thing was not only impossible but also the dumbest thing I'd ever heard, smacked him on the head, and locked myself in my room. He didn't seem to get the part about me being angry with him. Ten minutes later, he was knocking at my door, asking if I'd seen his Floor Monitor badge. He thought he might have left it at a party on a different floor.  
  
I can't believe I lost my place on the Orc Killing team because of Erestor's porridge pot, Glorfindel's religion, and Elrohir's sodding rock opera about Gil-galad. What sort of idiot writes a rock opera about Gil-galad?! And who would ever think Gil-galad could use two bows at once? Just to make sure, I looked up all the information I could find regarding Gil-galad and the number two (some of which I could really have lived without knowing). But the only even vaguely relevant story I could find was about Gil-galad occasionally using two spoons in order to eat stew more quickly.  
  
I can't believe I lost my place on the Orc Killing team because Gil-galad occasionally used two spoons to eat stew.  
  
January 17th  
  
Dad rang again this morning. I think he's already lonely without Erestor.   
  
I asked him what his plans for the day were, but he had none. I told him he should go shopping for my birthday, which is in only two weeks, since he needs to allow the postal service ample time to deliver large packages. He asked me what I wanted, and I took that as a good sign. It's likely he'll try to compensate for his guilt over the fight with Erestor by buying me something really spectacular, so I told him I want a DVD recorder. He said he'd look into it. I'm keeping hopes up.  
  
Then I asked him if Gil-galad ever tried to use two bows at the same time. He said, "Don't be ridiculous. That's physically impossible." I asked about the stew spoons. Dad made an irritated sort of noise, as if recalling a frustrating memory, and said, "Oh... that he did all the time." Then he suspiciously asked me about the sudden interest in Gil-galad and twos. I told him it was just something to do with Elrohir. Which, now that I think about it, likely made me sound even more suspicious. I hope he doesn't get the wrong idea.  
  
I also told him about the Orc Killing team fiasco and how it was all Elrohir's fault. But all he said was that it was probably for the best, since I ought to be focusing my talents on political studies. He's probably right. Who needs to practice killing orcs anyway? If they ever cross my path in the future, I can always bore them to death with detailed accounts of how democracy works. I'm sure that'll do just as well as a quick arrow to the neck.  
  
January 19th  
  
Spending time with Aerthos is getting to be a challenge. Not because the actual spending of time with him is difficult, but because spending time alone with him has become a rare pleasure now that he has his new roommate.  
  
The new roommate is omnipresent. No matter where we go or what we try to do, he's always there. When we were making snacks, he was in the kitchen stocking the fridge with beer. When we were watching a movie, he was beside the stereo organising his CD collection. When we gave up and retreated to the privacy of Aerthos' room, he was vacuuming the carpet just outside the door. Also, he has an irritating habit of yelling things that are either blatantly obvious ("THE TV IS ON!") or that nobody needs to know ("I GOTTA GO LAY A LOG!"). I don't know how Aerthos stands it.  
  
Therefore we have decided that all togetherness activities henceforth will be conducted at my place. I'm fine with that- I prefer my bed to his anyway. His blankets are inadequate and his pillows are all lumpy and old. Also, his DVD collection seems to consist mainly of musicals and low-budget religiously-themed productions. Which brings me to another point- half the religious paraphernalia is still prominently displayed at his house. Should I believe him when he says his old roommate "forgot" it, or should I be suspicious that he might be a closet Valar devotee? I think I need to ask him next time he comes over.  
  
January 21st  
  
There was no need to ask. We went out last night to something called "7:55 Alive", which, despite its precise title, started at three minutes past eight. It was in the Education Auditorium. It looked promising when we first arrived, since there was a band setting up on stage and some burly-looking electricians were wiring coloured lights. We sat down in the back row, which I thought was a good idea, because then we'd have a better chance of making out once the lights were dimmed. But no sooner had we sat than a very white-bread-looking fellow in a suit and tie urged us to move down closer to the stage, since only losers sit at the back. I told him we were fine where we were, thank you, but he kept pestering us to move until I got fed up and told him to piss off. Then he looked at me as if I were Morgoth Incarnate. I was about to ask Aerthos what was going on, but right then another boy in a suit, this one looking like he was barely out of high school, got up on stage. An obviously pregnant girl of about the same age stood beside him, smiling brightly.  
  
The boy introduced his wife, announced they were expecting their first child in two months, and started talking about how only ten years ago he was ashamed to be open about his faith since his peers thought it was uncool. But now he has Seen the Light, and realised that there's nothing cooler than being devoted to the Valar! Everybody except Aerthos and I cheered, and I suspect the only reason Aerthos wasn't cheering was because I was sitting right there giving him a "what have you brought me to?!" sort of look. The suit boy kept talking about how important it is to See the Light (everyone in the auditorium said "See the Light" with him whenever it came up), and then his wife took over. She talked about how Elbereth gave her inspiration for her paintings, and gestured to some pictures at the side of the stage. She does oil-paint-by number scenes from the Valaquenta. Her plan tonight was to paint while the band played, and hope that their spiritual energy would bless her work.  
  
I turned to Aerthos with a nervous laugh and said, "Wow, this is sure crazy, isn't it? Ha ha, what a bunch of weirdos." He smiled and said, "Yeah, it's really lame," but the insult wasn't convincing. Just because he wasn't lifting up his hands and saying "See the Light" along with the boy in the suit didn't mean he wasn't into the whole thing. I asked if we could leave, but he said he wanted to stay and listen to the band for a bit. He hastily added, "That's when it gets really wacked." We ended up staying for five songs. The lyrics were Power Point projected onto a screen above the stage, so we could all sing along like a big happy family. Aerthos didn't sing or wave his arms in the air like everyone else, but I think he wanted to.  
  
We went for coffee after we left, but the situation was a bit awkward. We talked mainly about schoolwork. Then he went home and I went back to my room, and I was left lying awake well into the night thinking that there's a very good chance my boyfriend is one of those sketchy religious people I always make fun of. I hope this doesn't damage our relationship.  
  
January 23rd  
  
Neither of us has said a peep about religion since Tuesday night. I think we're trying to pretend it never happened. I'm perfectly fine with that. As long as he doesn't suddenly decide that gay sex is morally wrong, I don't think I'll have anything to complain about.  
  
January 24th  
  
I rang dad this morning to see how he was doing. He sounded perky and one of his Juice Newton records was blaring in the background, so I think he was doing fine. He had dug out the old wine-making kit Glorfindel gave him for Fiommereth one year and was getting everything cleaned up and ready for a new batch. I asked if he and Erestor had resolved their differences yet, and he said no, Erestor was still at Lindir's and they weren't on speaking terms at work. Then I asked if he had sent my birthday present yet, and he said yes, he took it to the post office yesterday. I was pretty happy with both of those answers, and dad didn't have anything terribly exciting to say, so I ended the conversation on a good note and let him get back to his wine-making. Then I rang Erestor at Lindir's.  
  
Erestor was in a foul mood. He has nowhere (or at least nowhere good) to park his car. For the past week he had been parking between Lindir's house and the neighbours'. Lindir has a tree right in his front yard and Erestor doesn't want to park under the tree, as it tends to drop large quantities of snow from its branches. So the nose end of his car stuck out across the property line onto the street in front of the neighbours' house. Now, the neighbours have two cars, and like to park them both right in front of the house. This drives Erestor crazy, since they have a garage but don't use it. They always park as far back as they can to prevent Erestor from nosing his car across the line in front of their house. Therefore, to get back at them, Erestor had been leaving work early just so he could park as far in front of their house as he pleased.  
  
Two days ago, the neighbours had the city come and install a handicap parking sign in front of their house. That means nobody without a handicap plate can park within eight metres of the sign. They have managed to procure handicap plates, and Erestor is now prohibited from parking in front of their house on pain of a very expensive ticket. Now he has to park under Lindir's snowy tree, which he also suspects will drop sticky leaf pods in the spring and caterpillars in the summer. He is considering moving back to dad's just so he can reclaim his garage parking space. I don't think dad will take Erestor back. He is having too much fun single, being able to listen to his bad music as loud as he wants while making bad wine.  
  
Third, I rang grandma and grandpa. Grandma wasn't available, but grandpa was. He sounded a bit tense. Grandma had gone out to one of her ladies' charity club parties last night and come home at two in the morning, "tight as a hoot-owl" (grandpa's words, not mine- in fact I don't think I even have any idea what that means). He thinks she will be spending the entire day recovering in bed, which is rather unrespectable at her age. He will be spending the entire day supervising the two neighbour boys, whom he has hired to clean the garage, sweep leaves and plums off the talan, and haul garbage to the dump. Tomorrow he has plans to dig up the compost and get a new layer of mulch ready for spring gardening, and maybe go to Home Depot and get a proper bird bath so the chickadees quit using grandma's mirror.  
  
Finally I rang Rúmil. He wasn't home, so I left a lewd message on his answering service. I hope I had the right number.  
  
After the telephone conversations I went down to the cafeteria and had lunch. Then I visited with Elrohir for a while, where by "visited" I really mean "played Nintendo", and by "played" I mean "watched". He told me that he'd been given the lead in the rock opera. He will be playing the role of Gil-galad. I snarkily asked him he got to use two bows, but he said no, he only got a spear. He gets to make it in prop class.  
  
January 25th  
  
I got my Glorfindel essay back today. The professor gave me seven out of ten. I think that's because I did a crappy job on the essay, but she has no idea who Glorfindel is and has no way of proving that I did a crappy job. Then she assigned another essay. This one has to be 12 to 15 pages long, and on the topic of innovative political strategies implemented within the last fifty years.  
  
Have any innovative political strategies been implemented within the last fifty years?  
  
January 26th  
  
My knee hurts and I don't know why.  
  
And I'm bored. I might invite Aerthos over for a while. I haven't left my room all day, and it's nearly six. I'm getting sort of hungry too. All I've eaten so far today is two packets of complimentary pretzels from Northwest Airlines that I found in my backpack.  
  
Maybe I should start on my application for convocation. It's been sitting on my desk for a week and I've not touched it yet. But it's asking all sorts of unreasonable questions, like how tall I am and how many people I'll be bringing to the auditorium.  
  
January 27th  
  
Aerthos did come over yesterday. We sat around being bored together for a while, then went over to Elrohir's room where we listened to CDs and played with the Jenga set Elrohir had lifted from the common room. Elrohir's friend Finerven from Lórien was there and we hunted down a Mirkwood representative (a girl named Eirien) to round out our World Cup Jenga tournament. Rivendell took gold. Elrohir is surprisingly good at Jenga. Grey Havens came in last. Aerthos gets too nervous under pressure.  
  
We are considering making this into a weekly event, with actual prizes. Granted the prizes would likely be soft drink tokens, but that's better than nothing.  
  
January 28th  
  
I think I'm going to have to start working with Elrohir in Quenya again. The last few marks I've gotten back indicate that I have the Quenya-speaking capacity of a sock. At least when I work with Elrohir I can hitch onto his glory and absorb some of the residual greatness. And he tends to do all the work, which is always a plus. I'm certain the prof is about to give us another dialogue assignment on Friday, so I'd better make certain to sit beside Elrohir in class.  
  
January 30th  
  
Everybody else had the same idea as me about sitting next to Elrohir. I think they've all caught on that he's by far the best, and before class even started he'd been asked by six different people if he'd work with them. He ended up choosing a blonde girl in tight jeans and a skimpy top. He has no sense of familial loyalty! Now I am stuck working with Nova.  
  
Also, today is the deadline for handing in my convocation application. I'd better get it done. Surely dad and Erestor will want to come to the ceremony to look proud of me and take hours of video that nobody will ever watch because the damn thing was deadly boring the first time around? And what about grandma and grandpa? And I'm assuming Elrohir isn't convocating. In fact, I don't even think he knows what degree he's trying to get. Aerthos still has six credits to go, so I'd better get a ticket for him too. That's six so far.  
  
I had Elrohir measure me for the height question, and he said I was 191 centimetres long.  
  
February 1st  
  
It was my birthday yesterday. And it was Saturday. Technically, this should have made for more fun than the proverbial barrel of monkeys. However, I had to spend the morning driving Aralindë's parents to the sea port.  
  
Two nights ago, after I went to bed, Glorfindel rang. He had suddenly come up with a brilliant idea, he said, and he needed my help. I warily asked what he was up to. He started explaining how he is on shaky terms with Aralindë's parents. They (understandably) want to string him up for stealing their daughter, getting her pregnant, running away to a different continent, and converting her to some sketchy religion that had until recently been confined to National Geographic articles and documentaries on the Vision network and TeleValmar. But he had a plan to win them over. The plan involved me dressing up in my best suit, hiring a luxury sedan, and collecting them from the airport. I would then take them out for lunch at a classy place before dropping them off at the sea port to catch their carnival cruise to Valinor.  
  
I told him to shove it. He said he'd pay me. I said, "How much?" He said, "Whatever it takes." I told him I wanted a thousand dollars, plus expenses. He said, "Done."  
  
So, at quarter past nine yesterday morning I was at the airport dressed in my best suit, looking for Aralindë's parents. The hired Cadillac was stuck in short-term parking. I waited around at international arrivals gate L for twenty minutes, holding up a sign that said "Aralindë's Parents" because I couldn't remember their names. Eventually they found me, walking over with funny looks on their faces. Her mum asked, "Who are you?" I told her I was a driver hired by Glorfindel to buy them lunch and take them on to the sea port. It was mostly true, so I was able to say it seriously. Aralindë's dad looked a bit wild-eyed when Glorfindel's name came up, but her mum perked up at the mention of lunch, so we all headed out to the Cadillac. All six of us. Glorfindel neglected to mention that Aralindë has three younger siblings.  
  
I had planned on taking them somewhere nice to eat, like maybe the golf course on the coast, but the three younger siblings sort of trashed that idea. We ended up going to Chuck E Cheese's. The youngest child played in the ball pit while the rest of us ate a charming lunch of hamburgers and pizza. I got a ketchup spot on my shirt cuff. I tried to keep it tucked into my coat as we drove to the sea port, but somehow it was in just the wrong spot and kept popping out. I also tried to keep saying flattering things about Glorfindel, but in the end I'm not sure if it made any difference in their opinions or not. I hope I still get paid either way. And I think I should demand a bonus, because Aralindë's youngest sister was sick in the back of the Cadillac and I had to spend a quarter-hour with a bottle of chem-dry trying to get tomato sauce and bits of chewed-up bread out of the upholstery. In hindsight, I really should've paid the extra fee for interior damage insurance.  
  
After that I went to the post office to pick up my birthday parcel from dad, but it was closed. I hate this city. Everything closes at 5 and is never open on weekends! Stupid lazy Teleri. I bet in Tirion things are open all the time. I will ask Glorfindel about that when I telephone him to complain.  
  
Since I had it for two more days, I put the car in the underground car park at the uni. Glorfindel is rich- he can afford it. Then I went upstairs to officially start my birthday. I discounted that morning portion of servitude. I knocked on Elrohir's door and woke him up at the ridiculous hour of noon to give him his present (a Batter Master 200 that I ordered off the internet, since he seems to be overly fond of battered foods), and he dug mine out from his closet (actually it was more like the pile of clothes in front of the closet). His comment on his present was, "Now I can make my own fish sticks!" I opened my present while he was taking his out of the box to examine it. He bought me four vodka coolers and a tee-shirt that says "CULT LEADER: do what I say and everyone gets hurt". He is a good brother, really.  
  
I sat in Elrohir's room drinking vodka and playing Nintendo until five or so, when Aerthos came over. He brought me more vodka coolers and a real paper book-type journal. I haven't had one of those since I was little. It should be interesting to try out, though my journal-writing skills might be a bit shoddy without spellcheck and auto-correct. Also, it has a lock, which should keep prying noses out of my very important secret personal writings. My computer is password protected, but I am suspicious that Elrohir knows the password, since sometimes when I log on my desktop icons have rearranged themselves or disappeared altogether.  
  
Around ten the three of us took off down to the uni pub, where everyone we met proceeded to buy me vodka coolers. Do they think I really like vodka coolers? I mean I'm not opposed to them in any way, but still this was a little strange. Do they think I'm an alcoholic and that's why they were buying me so many drinks? Or do they think I'm really boring and need to get drunk to loosen up? I could ponder these points further, but I think I'll just count my blessings and be proud to say that I got roaringly drunk without spending a single penny. It was great. Then I was sick in the gents' toilets. That part wasn't so great. I had to borrow some change from Aerthos to buy a pack of Dentyne from the vending machine and get the taste of vomit out of my mouth.  
  
So, I am now 2911. I wonder if dad got drunk in university pubs when he was my age? Somehow I can't imagine it. I think he always must've been boring. I should ask Erestor and Glorfindel.  
  
February 11th  
  
For the past several days I've been trying to write in the book journal Aerthos gave me instead of on the computer, but it's just not the same. I can't handwrite as fast as I can type, and by the time I get any thoughts half written down I've already forgotten what I wanted to say. From now on, I'll keep the book on my bedside table and use it to write down any odd dreams I have. Like the one I had the other night when my brain was running in Windows XP mode. I think I was suffering from computer withdrawal.  
  
To get the computer journal caught up, here is a summary of what I've done the past few days:  
  
February 1st I spent mostly in bed recovering from hangover. Elrohir brought me soup from the cafeteria and spilled it all over my desk, because he was still half drunk and couldn't walk right. He was wearing his floor monitor badge and looking sick as a dog because he had to go to a meeting with the building supervisors to discuss new fire safety codes.  
  
February 2nd saw me falling asleep in class because my sleeping schedule was all screwed up due to having a hangover on the 1st and staying in bed all day. Then after class I went to the post office to pick up my parcel from dad, and then returned the car to Budget (hope they won't notice the stain). I opened the parcel upon returning to the residence, and found inside a 128 meg compact flash card for my camera, and a set of walkie-talkies for Elrohir. I'll have to keep the DVD burner on my list for next Fiommereth.  
  
I didn't write anything for February 3rd. I'm not sure if that was because nothing happened, or because a bunch of wonderful things happened and I didn't have time to write. I'm betting it's the former.  
  
February 4th I went to the library to get out a book about Vanyarin culture because Glorfindel said something dumb over the telephone and I wanted to see if he was fibbing or not. Of course I didn't write down what he said, and I can't remember now, so I may never know. In the meantime, I have a very boring book to read in the biff. It has disappointingly few pictures.  
  
On February 5th I pretended I had a stomach ache to get out of running laps in P.E.  
  
Aerthos came over on the 6th and, according to my crudely-scrawled notes, we got it on. Possibly while I was writing, if the spectacularly poor penmanship is any indication.  
  
All that's written for February 7th is, "ELLADAN TAKES A WHIZ" and "ELLADAN BRUSHES HIS DAMN TEETH". I remember having a Jenga party in Elrohir's room that night, and drinking a substantial amount of beer, but I don't remember giving him permission to write either of those comments. My whiz is logged at 10.09 pm, and the teeth-brushing took place at 1.44.  
  
On February 8th I did my weekly telephoning to Rivendell. I missed last week, so I made certain to have a thorough talk with both dad and Erestor this time. Dad complained that Erestor called round to pick up more things and take them over to Lindir's, and he ended up stealing all the cleaning supplies from the pantry. Dad was planning on cleaning the bathrooms, but the Toilet Duck was gone so he was left with nothing to do. Erestor reported that he had finally outsmarted the neighbours by having Lindir's dad (who lost the lower portion of his right leg in the Last Alliance) apply for a handicap sticker. Erestor then affixed it to his car, so now he's legally entitled to park in front of the neighbours' house as long as he pleases. I asked him if he didn't think there was something wrong with taking a handicap sticker away from a man with only one and a half legs, but he said Lindir's dad doesn't have a car anyhow, so has no use for it.  
  
Apparently I did nothing on February 9th as well. Or at least I wrote nothing. Actually, I'm pretty sure I did nothing. Nothing interesting, at least. I remember emailing Glorfindel and downloading Windows updates.  
  
Then yesterday a rabbit ran through the revolving door by the residence office and caused a big commotion. One of the security guards eventually caught it with an overturned dustbin. He was later interviewed by a reporter from the school paper, who also got a picture of the rabbit. Then in a completely unrelated but similar-sounding incident, Elrohir won the Chubby Bunny contest at supper. He fit twenty-six marshmallows in his mouth.  
  
And that brings the journal up to date. Nothing much happened today. I found an old brown apple core in a ziplock baggie under my desk, but that's about it for anything out of the ordinary. I put the baggie under Elrohir's desk. I'm sure it was his, anyway.  
  
February 12th  
  
When Aerthos came over after supper tonight he asked me what I wanted to do for Melevellar. I hadn't thought of anything, or really even considered doing anything. I've never had to think of anything before. This is the first time I've had a Melevellar boyfriend. He suggested we go to a fancy hotel for the night. I said that would be nice, only a bit awkward. I mean, when two people with an in-town address check into a swanky hotel for one night on February 14th, the desk staff is going to know what's going on. I don't think I could stand them knowing. Especially when we could do things much more privately right here. Plus the residence is organising some sort of formal supper that night, so we wouldn't be able to get away until at least eight.  
  
He said that would be fine, since really it was the after-eight activities that were most important, and also ran off a list of special prices at the fancy harbour hotels. We could get a night in one of the luxury suites at the West Coast Plaza, including buffet breakfast and complimentary drinks, for $349. I said I'd think about it. He said he was going to book it. I didn't do much to stop him. I think we're going to the West Coast Plaza on Saturday.  
  
My biggest worry is that I won't want to come back to my dorm room after such luxury.  
  
February 13th  
  
Aerthos can't come to the formal supper. I went down to the residence office today to get him a ticket, and was told by a surly organiser that only Mindon residents can attend. I pointed to the part on the advertisement that said "Couples Only", and he said that a date would be provided for me. I'm not sure what that means, but it sounds ominous. I'm suspicious that I'll be paired off with some single girl. With my luck, a single First Year girl. A single First Year foreign student from Mirkwood who wears low-rise jeans and too much eyeliner, and talks about her favourite hip hop artists on a mobile phone while drinking Coca-Cola through a heart-shaped straw. If I hadn't already spent $12 on a ticket, I might reconsider.  



	8. The Elladan Show 8

February 14th (Melevellar) 

I have lived through the Melevellar Formal Supper. I even wore my fancy Sinda costume, and didn't spill on it. It wasn't as bad as I was anticipating. Actually, I was quite relieved. Maybe my luck is turning better.

My date was an engineering grad student named Angiliath. I didn't ask why she still lived in residence, but she seemed nice enough. Actually her real name is Miriliel, but she claims that's too girly so she renamed herself Angiliath. I told her Angiliath suits her better, and it does. She was wearing cargo overalls and had a tattoo of a Doriathrin battle axe on her forearm. She was a bit owly at first and kept looking at me suspiciously, and warned me that she was a kickboxing instructor and had a girlfriend, so I shouldn't try anything funny. After I assured her that I was only at the supper by myself because my boyfriend wasn't allowed to attend, she was much more agreeable. We sat at a table in the back corner and made snide comments about the way others were dressed. She didn't make any comments about my Sindarin outfit, but I'm not sure if that's because she liked it or if she was just being polite to her date. I didn't comment on her overalls, even though they did make her look a bit like a construction worker. She might have taken that as a compliment, though.

For supper we had cream of potato soup, which was excellent, and mushroom crepes, which were so bad they made me gag. I traded one of my crepes for Angiliath's salad. I think her sense of taste might be non-functional, since she thought the crepes were great. For dessert we had cherry cheesecake. I was still hungry, even after eating all the cinnamon heart candy from the bowl at the centre of the table. I was sort of tempted to stick around for the dance afterward, if only for the refreshment table. They had cookies and a shrimp ring. But Aerthos said he'd be by to collect me in a taxi at eight, so I came back to my room to sit and wait for him.

I have packed a small overnight bag to go to the hotel, consisting of toiletries, clothes for tomorrow, clean underpants, a pillow in case the hotel pillows are crummy, a lounging outfit to wear to breakfast, a jacket in case we sit out on the balcony tonight and it's cold, shoes to match tomorrow's clothes, slippers, and two pair of socks in case one for whatever reason gets wet. I am not sure whether I should pack pyjamas or not, since pyjamas really shouldn't be required if we end up doing what we're going to the hotel to do. But on the other hand, I might get cold in the middle of the night. I ought to pack my good pyjamas just in case.

February 15th

The hotel experience wasn't exactly what I had in mind. The hotel itself was fine, and even better than the luxury room at the Delta Elrohir and I once got by accident because all other rooms were booked. The room Aerthos and I had came with a king size canopy bed, walk-in closet, Jacuzzi tub, and a complimentary bottle of mid-range champagne. When we first arrived we admired the bed, hung everything we could in the closet, made plans to use the Jacuzzi later, and had a glass of champagne. Then we went down to the lounge for drinks, sitting right by the glass wall overlooking the harbour. That part was lovely.

But when we got back up to the room, things seemed a little awkward. Everything was too perfect, and too quiet. We lay down very carefully on the bed, above the covers and not moving. I said, "This doesn't feel right," to which he answered, "I know. It's like sneaking around in your grandparents' guest room." That was exactly what it felt like. I was afraid to move too much on the bed and wrinkle the perfect blankets. I didn't even want to breathe too heavily in case the air current rustled the drapes. There was a definite sense that if we started to do anything, a stern woman brandishing a rolling pin would burst through the door to shoo us away like naughty children. We lay there for a long time being worried and staring up at the pristine tassels adorning the canopy.

Finally, around eleven, Aerthos sat up and said. "I can't take it any more!" He rang down to the front desk and asked if we could switch to a standard room with no tassels and a nylon bedspread that we wouldn't feel bad about mussing. The fellow at the desk said it would be possible, but we couldn't be reimbursed for the difference. Neither of us cared. We packed up our things and headed down to the seventh floor, where all the rooms have regular queen size beds with ugly floral blankets, closets where the hangers are fastened to a bar so you can't steal them, standard shower-baths, and complimentary hotel-brand mints instead of champagne. A large television loomed in one corner. We sighed in relief.

After that everything was fine. We ordered a party platter of nachos, chicken fingers, onion rings and potato skins from room service and watched a bad action movie on pay-per-view. Maybe not the romantic evening we had in mind, but fun all the same. We'll know for next time that we're more suited to econo motels than upscale luxury suites on the harbour.

February 16th

Today was the first fabulous day of an entire week off school! I think it's called "reading week" because we're supposed to get caught up on our studying, but I don't think I know anyone who actually uses the time off for school-related purposes. I sure don't, and Elrohir doesn't even use in-school time for school-related purposes, so he's certainly not going to crack the books. We have one Quenya assignment together that's due a week from today, but I'm sure we (that is, he) can get it done in the few hours before it's due.

Aerthos suggested we go somewhere for a few days. I'm not sure where or why, since we just went to a hotel, but he wanted to go away. By "away" I think he meant "out of town". I didn't agree to go, but I didn't say no either. I said I'd see. Which was convenient, since a few hours later Elrohir came by and asked if I wanted to go somewhere for a few days. I asked where. He said, "The Shire." I asked why. He said, "Beer!" Clearly, he just wants to go on an exotic pub crawl. I told him I'd think about it.

A beer-hall tour of the Shire probably isn't what Aerthos had in mind when he asked me if I wanted to go out of town for a few days, but I really can't let Elrohir go alone and unsupervised.

February 18th

I am in Hobbiton with Aerthos, Elrohir, and Gildor. I'm not sure how, but Gildor has this annoying habit of weaselling his way into road trips. We found him at a Super 8 just past the Tower Hills. Elrohir invited him to sit in our hired car to get out of the rain, and that was it. He joined the group and now we can't get rid of him.

Actually, it's sort of a good thing he did join. Gildor is the only one who knows his way around the Shire, and without him we'd have been lost forever on muddy back roads that all look about three feet wide. The outdated road map we found in the glove compartment wasn't very useful. We got lost and ended up at a potash mine before Gildor recognised a grain silo and got us back on the right track. He also successfully steered our car, which seemed humorously large and out-of-place, through the narrow Hobbiton streets to the Five Ribbon Inn.

Aerthos wouldn't get out of the car. He'd seen something on the news about Hobbits ganging up on big people and chasing them out of the Shire, and was worried our presence would incite a similar incident and we'd be chased out of town by midgets bearing shotguns. He'd also seen Aragorn proclaiming that the Shire was off limits to anyone over five feet tall. I tried to assure him that the ban only applied to Men, not Elves, but he didn't buy it. He made Gildor get out of the car first in case anything started.

Nothing started, but the locals did sort of stare in shock. Clearly they are not used to anything out of the ordinary, and don't like any unexpected events distracting them from everyday routine. The Shire is like a whole country of grandpas. From the looks they gave us, I'd guess they consider Elves rather outlandish and showy. Elrohir's shiny purple shirt caused a sensational murmur of "Well I never!" A little girl started crying when Gildor tried to pat her hair.

Aerthos kept trying to hide behind me. He doesn't speak any Westron, so understandably he felt a bit lost. He just stood there and looked miserable. He looked even worse when the innkeeper grudgingly gave us a room. Everything is Hobbit-sized, from the height of the ceiling to the length of the beds. We had to push two queen-sized Hobbit beds together to make one roughly double-sized Elf bed. But then there is the problem of the blankets. Really, we should've thought this trip through more carefully. It is very difficult to sleep in very small beds with very small blankets. Also, nobody bothered to look up whether the Shire ran on the same electrical current and had the same plugs as the Grey Havens. Of course it doesn't, so I can't plug in my computer. And Aerthos' hair dryer is completely useless. We will have to go to bed with wet hair tonight, provided we can fit in the shower. I'm not feeling too hopeful. The nozzle looks about armpit-height.

Of course Elrohir thinks all this is wonderful. He thrives on impracticality. He also sleeps curled up like a cat, so these beds are about right for him. Right now he is down in the pub with Gildor getting loaded, much to the dismay of the locals. I think they're ruining the homey atmosphere. I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up tomorrow morning to find they'd been arrested.

February 20th

We are back in the Grey Havens. We went to the Shire, took pictures, bought souvenirs, and came back. That constitutes enough of a road trip for me. I slept through most of the driving, and am much happier for it. The Shire is nothing to write home about. Quite literally. I bought a postcard to send to dad and Erestor, but couldn't think of anything to say. But we also purchased some mementos of our trip. I now have a Hobbiton coffee mug, Aerthos has a sticker and a photo book, and Elrohir has a tee-shirt that says "Don't pick the flowers! Flowers don't like to be picked!" He thinks it's hilarious. I don't get it.

BUT today I get to pack! Aerthos' roommate has moved out! He went to his girlfriend's flat on the 13th, and isn't coming back. Aerthos may have terrible luck with roommates, but this is good news for me. No more tiny dorm room. No more communal showers. No more fluorescent lighting. No more being forced to attend Elrohir's toga parties as a slave boy in a loincloth because I don't have an appropriate toga.

I am going to move tomorrow morning. Elrohir is going to help. We've not quite figured out the logistics of moving yet, such as how I'm going to get all my things over to the house, but I'm sure we'll figure it out. A taxi may be involved. It is too far to walk to Aerthos' house at this time of year, especially when carrying boxes and bags of varying shapes.

February 22nd

I am back in my dorm room. Aerthos doesn't have internet at his house. I've been forced to come back here until Wednesday, when the Telus man promised to come by and install the DSL. Also, Aerthos doesn't have a long-distance plan, and got a bit tense when I mentioned this morning that Sunday is my long-distance telephoning day. He rings his parents once every two months for fear of the telephone bill. I told him I'd pay it, and order a long-distance package, since I'm already paying for the DSL. He didn't sound much more enthusiastic. I think he just wants to avoid talking to his parents.

I rang dad around lunch time. He sounded depressed. I asked what was wrong, and he said, with a sigh, "Well... I woke up at five-thirty this morning, rolled over, and Erestor wasn't there... It just wasn't a very good start to the day." He tried to make it better by going out for breakfast, but he was too depressed to make it all the way to the real bakery so he stopped in at Donut Time and got a dozen chocolate glazed. He'd eaten eight so far, plus two hotdogs, a box of Kraft Dinner, and a bacon sandwich (with extra bacon). I told him that getting fat certainly wasn't going to win Erestor back. He told me to shut up. Then excused himself to get an ice cream bar.

Then I rang Erestor. He was huffing a lot and sounded angry, since one of Lindir's daft children had just cut up a chicken breast in his best fry pan, shredding the Teflon. He decided he was unable to live under the same roof as those ignorant, destructive louts, and was packing his things. I asked where he was going. He said he didn't rightly know. To work, perhaps. He could stay in his office for the night and then look for a flat in the morning. I suggested he talk to dad, then explained the situation. Erestor screeched, "He's eating nothing but frozen, processed, and fast foods?!" I said yes. Clearly, dad is in need of Erestor's high-quality cookware and proper supper-making skills. Erestor said he had to go. I'm fairly certain he went back to dad's, where there are no Teflon-ruining youths and he can have a safe tree-free parking space while showcasing his culinary skills.

I probably should've rang dad back to warn him that Erestor was coming over so he'd have time to clean up the mess of junk foods, but I figured I'd already done my good deed for the day. Since I am still officially opposed to their relationship, I can't help out too much.

February 23rd

Both Elrohir and I completely forgot about the Quenya assignment that was due today. As a result, I think Elrohir may be booted out of his teacher's pet position. The professor kept glaring at him all class. I hope he re-establishes his standing soon, since I can't get a good mark in that class without him.

We have to give a presentation on Wednesday now. It seems like this class is at least four times as much work as any other. At least in my other classes I get to do nothing all semester and then hand in one big assignment at the end. Incidentally, the end is six weeks from now. I really ought to start working on some of those assignments now so I'm not swamped later.

February 25th

Our Quenya presentation was about birds. It was the worst thing I've ever done, and by far the worst thing Elrohir's ever done in that class. The professor looked disgusted with our feeble effort. Even Elrohir said he felt ashamed of himself. I couldn't help but worry that maybe I'm dragging him down to my substandard Quenya level.

I asked him after class if he wanted to keep working with me, and he said yes. Only he said it sort of vaguely, as if he were trying to say it in a way that meant "yes" now but could easily be written off as a distracted untruthful "yes" next week when he tells me he forgot we were supposed to be working together and has found a new partner. I think I might have to accost him in the corridor tomorrow and get a legally binding "yes" on paper.

But on the plus side, Telus came by this afternoon to hook up my internet, meaning I could officially move in with Aerthos. We celebrated by having Taco Time and watching a video, but I managed to sneak fifteen minutes of email while he was in the shower.

February 26th

Went grocery shopping with Aerthos today, since all he had to eat at the house was rice cakes, potatoes, Ritz Bitz left over from his last roommate, Appletreet cups, and some weird things in jars. Half the things I put in the cart he took out, saying we didn't need luxury items. After ten minutes I lost my temper in the middle of the preserved vegetable aisle and shouted at him that pickles are not a luxury. Then I stormed off to get my own cart. We are on separate food bills from now on. If he wants to live on rice and pasta, that's his own choice.

We had separate suppers as well. I made stir fry. He made instant mashed potatoes. I offered to share, but he wasn't speaking to me, apart from the word "no".

February 27th

Due to the supermarket row, I stayed in my own room at the house for the first time last night. It was a bit odd. I never noticed before how loud the furnace is, or how the street light outside seems to have been carefully placed for maximum annoyance by shining right in my window all night. I'm not sure if it was because of these things or because of troubles with Aerthos, but I didn't get much sleep. Then, in a scenario eerily similar to what dad described on the phone the other day, I woke up shortly after five, saw Aerthos wasn't in bed with me, and was overcome with an acute feeling of loneliness. I couldn't get back to sleep after that. I eventually had to give up, deciding to watch television for a while until it was time for class.

Aerthos was already up, sitting on the sofa, watching educational Quenya children's programming. He refuses to get cable, so that was about the only thing on, apart from news. I wordlessly sat down next to him and we watched in silence.

Halfway through the show about a man in a dog suit with superhero alphabet powers, he randomly said, "Sorry." I said, "Me too." Then he leaned over onto my shoulder, and we spent the next seven hours curled up together, alternately sleeping and cuddling. I ended up missing class, but that didn't seem very important.

For supper I made spicy baked chicken, he made cream of mushroom soup, and we shared both. The flavours clashed horribly but neither of us really minded.

February 29th

A reporter from the school paper showed up to cover Elrohir's World Cup Jenga tournament last night. Elrohir won the gold medal: a Corona bottle cap glued to a McDonald's shoe lace, which he made in props class. He really is good at Jenga. Too bad it, like most of his other talents, is completely useless when it comes to any real-world application.

He came over for lunch today, claiming it was because he was bored at the residence, but I think it's because cabbage rolls were on the cafeteria menu. He helped make pork chop stew. Then he stayed, and stayed, and stayed, until finally at seven Aerthos asked him if he didn't have anyplace else to be. He said no, he'd rather stay here with us and watch television. So he grabbed my pillow and duvet, got as many snacks as he could carry, and snuggled down on the sofa to watch the entirety of Sunday night programming on channel five. Aerthos and I had been planning on snuggling on the sofa ourselves, but Elrohir took up too much room.

I tried to explain to Aerthos, who has been a bit cool toward Elrohir ever since the whole Shire incident, that he is like a pet that needs lots of attention, and the majority of that attention usually comes from me. Most of the time it's adequate if somebody's just in the same room as him, especially if they're watching him play Nintendo. He doesn't do well on his own. But Elrohir's well-being isn't too much of a concern in Aerthos' mind. He said that either Elrohir goes or he does. So I tried to get rid of Elrohir, but he had already fallen asleep in a pile of biscuit boxes and pudding cups. I couldn't bring myself to wake him.

Aerthos left in a rather bad mood. I don't know where he went, and he hasn't come back yet. I hope he's alright. He forgot his wallet on the kitchen table.

March 1st

Elrohir stayed over last night. He woke up around midnight, at which time we decided it would be fun if we got drunk on some really bad rum we found at the back of the pantry and stayed up half the night playing Magic cards. Aerthos came home around four in the morning, also very drunk. He cried and apologised and told Elrohir how much he loved him, then we all fell asleep on the living room floor in a pile of Magic cards. I accidentally rolled over onto Elrohir's graveyard, bending his Force of Nature and a Hungry Mist. I hid them in the middle of his deck. I hope he doesn't notice.

Naturally, Elrohir and I were both far too sick to go to Quenya this morning. I wonder if he is the bad influence on me, or if I am a bad influence on him?

March 4th

Elrohir has decided to move in. He doesn't like being at the residence by himself, floor monitor or not. He now resides in our spare room in the basement, though he spends most of his time on the sofa in the living room. Aerthos has been very good about it and hasn't complained once. He even tolerates Elrohir's habit of watching telly in nothing but his bright yellow underpants. Though sometimes I wish he wouldn't tolerate it quite so avidly. And Elrohir should learn to cover up. He is unwittingly leading my boyfriend astray (at least I hope it's unwittingly).

March 5th

Props class has been getting a bit out of hand ever since our professor realised the rock opera starts performing in two weeks and we only have a handful of props made. And that's a literal handful- we've made a sack of coins. Today Elrohir and I worked together on a papier maché surf board. Somebody else was assembling an old-timey microphone, and a large group in the corner was making a car out of poster board and tinfoil. I still have no idea what this rock opera is about, and Elrohir refuses to tell me, but he says I can come watch rehearsal tomorrow.

March 6th

I still don't know what the rock opera is about, and I've seen it now. I think it might have had a plot but I wasn't paying close enough attention to the lyrics to figure it out. So to me it just seemed like a big jumble of songs performed by people wearing costumes, pretending to be other people. Elrohir was wearing a surf shirt, so I knew he was Gil-galad. I think the dude in tight jeans was supposed to be dad and the one in the slick suit was supposed to be Sauron. It's anyone's guess who the rest of them were. This really seems like something that requires a program and song listing to understand.

It started off with a late-First Age type band singing a memorial surf song about Gil-galad. But then Gil-galad (Elrohir) was on stage and the backdrop sort of looked like a beach and he was holding a piece of cardboard that I think was standing in for the surf board he and I aren't done making yet. He and his surfer friends sang a surfing song, then the friends left and he sang a sadder song that I think was about spears. And maybe Fingolfin, since I remember that name coming up in one of the verses. After this somebody in lots of black leather performed a number that included lots of fake smoke, and Gil-galad ended up on top of a platform surrounded by strobe lights. Then the fellow in tight jeans started singing. A choir came onto the stage. More fake smoke appeared. Then everything went black and Gil-galad sang a sad type of song by himself, at the end of which he and tight jeans Elrond were looking a bit too friendly.

This part I was almost able to follow. But then everyone cleared off and a girl came and sang one flirty song to the actor I thought was being dad. She didn't appear again until the middle of the second act. After her song was more sentimental stuff from Gil-galad. Then suddenly Sauron appeared out of nowhere and sang about being back in Middle-earth. That was the finale to act one. I don't remember the opening for act two, or even the first few songs, since I fell asleep while the director was giving notes for act one and didn't wake up until halfway through the flirty girl's second-act song. After that I was too lost to pay much attention, so I did some Quenya homework until the grand finale. And I only watched that because it was performed by the black leather guy from act one, and he was sort of interesting.

When it was over I had to lie and tell Elrohir it was really good. He talked about being Gil-galad all the way back to the house, and twice mentioned his drinking buddy, "the dude who plays Erestor". Which one was supposed to be Erestor?

March 7th

Did no homework today. I probably should've started something, since I have a major essay due in two weeks (WHERE DO THESE THINGS COME FROM?!!!), but instead Aerthos and Elrohir and I went to McDonald's. I ordered a Big Mac. Aerthos ordered a chicken burger. Elrohir ordered McNuggets and a free sundae. I'm not sure how he gets away with it, but they gave him a free sundae, no questions asked.

Dad phoned when we got home. He sounded slightly distant, as if upset because I didn't ring him this morning. As if to punish me for being so thoughtless, he asked to speak to Elrohir. He never asks to speak to Elrohir!

After he hung up, Elrohir announced that dad and Erestor have decided to come to the Grey Havens to see his performance in the rock opera. They will be flying in late on the 18th and will be staying at a hotel. Elrohir says that dad claims this is because he knows there won't be room at our house, but I'm sure they only want to be alone and indecent together.

I asked if dad had said anything about coming for my convocation, but Elrohir said no, he hadn't mentioned it.

March 10th

Classes these days just aren't worth mentioning, but yesterday turned suddenly excellent when I got home that afternoon and found a cheque from Glorfindel in the post box, for $1,260! I celebrated by ordering Nandorin takeaway, with extra fortune cookies. Then Aerthos and I walked over to the uni pub with Elrohir and some of his friends for Karaoke Tuesday, and we all got pleasantly loaded. If I remember correctly (and I'm not sure I do), I drank two peach coolers, two rum and Cokes, a bottle of cranberry stuff, and half a pitcher of beer. I don't even like beer, but by the time it came around I was on a roll and didn't really care either way. Aerthos got up on stage and did a creative rendition of "Wild Thing". Then Elrohir and I sang "If I Had A Million Dollars", but Elrohir spent half the song just yelling into the microphone.

At half two, when the bar closed, we took a taxi home. One of the posh taxis, too, with all-leather interior. I'm pretty sure the driver muttered something unmentionable under his breath when we drunkenly told him we only needed to go three blocks.

March 11th

Aerthos is starting to bug me again. I'm not sure exactly why or how, but I find myself getting cross with him very easily these days, and wishing he would leave me alone. It's nothing major, really, but the little things that I find so irritating. Like how he walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth while I'm peeing, without so much as an "excuse me". Or how he says Erestorish things like "Don't say no if you'd rather not" and uses inappropriate adjectives like "fagulous". Or how his CD collection is predominantly soundtracks to musicals. Or how he constantly sings "I Could Have Danced All Night" (though he replaces "danced" with a different, slightly less innocent verb). It's enough to make me want to kick him in the pants.

I would talk to Elrohir about this and ask for his opinion as to what I should do, but I know already what his answer will be. Elrohir is always strongly in favour of a good pants-kicking.

March 13th

I tried to spend today avoiding Aerthos as much as possible, but it's a bit difficult when living in the same small house. He kept asking me if something was wrong, and no matter how many times I told him I just had an upset stomach from eating a tainted egg at breakfast, he kept hanging around. Nobody ever believes my tainted egg excuse!

He offered to make me an egg-free lunch and supper, but for some reason that just made me even more annoyed. I think the real problem is that he tries too hard. I was much happier with Erestor, who never paid any attention to me, because at least then I had something legitimate to complain about. I have come to the conclusion that I'm not happy unless I have a good source of complaint.

March 14th

Rang dad this morning, if only so that I could say I'd done it. He wasn't doing anything, so it was a very boring conversation. He told me that it must be snake mating season, since Aragorn's old pet corn snake keeps trying to escape from its terrarium. Erestor found it slithering around near the base of the dishwasher yesterday and dropped a whole stack of glass bowls in fright. Dad is looking into having the snake shipped down to Gondor.

Still not getting along with Aerthos. Spent the afternoon doing laundry. How come my socks keep going missing?!

March 15th

I ran into Angiliath at the sandwich shop today while I was eating my (untainted) egg salad on brown. She was carrying a very fully tray and complaining loudly that young, insignificant students were taking up all the room by putting their backpacks and binders on seats. I invited her to sit with me, after I moved my backpack off the adjacent chair. Looking at her tray of stir fry, chicken fingers, pizza, chocolate milk, and coffee, I asked if her girlfriend would be joining her. She scowled and said no, it was all for her. And she ate it. For a girl, she can sure eat.

She asked how my boyfriend was, and I told her the truth. She was very understanding and sympathetic, saying her girlfriend (whose name is Merenel) can get very clingy and annoying at times (though after seventeen years, she's used to it). She suggested I write to the Students' Union advice column advertised in the paper. They might be able to offer a unique perspective, or at least an insulting reply. I said I'd have a go at it, since really anybody's advice is helpful at this point. Then she gave me her email address with instructions to write at least once before end of semester so we can meet for coffee or pizza or something.

When I got home, I wrote a letter to the advice columnist, Uncle Thelion, who I'm sure is much closer to a geeky computer science major than somebody's actual uncle.

Dear Uncle Thelion,

I have been in a semi-successful relationship for  
the past four and a half months now, which (by my  
standards) is a significantly long time. My  
boyfriend and I have been happy enough, and I'm  
sure he's a wonderful person, but lately I've  
started to feel as if everything he does irritates  
me. We live together, so I have ample time every  
day to be irritated.

It's not anything dramatic he does that annoys me.  
Just consistent little things, like grabbing my  
bum whenever I stand with my back to him, or eating  
chips off my lunch plate without asking. And he  
has appalling grammar, saying things like "I seen"  
and sticking apostrophes where apostrophes just  
don't belong, even though I always point out how  
annoying I find that.

What can I do? I don't really want to end things  
with him, but sometimes I feel as if I have no  
choice. Do you have any ideas how I should go  
about breaking things up in a friendly way? Or  
how to better cope with his irksome tendencies?  
The only time I find I can really stand him is when  
we're having sex, but that might just be because  
it's sort of difficult to think of anything else  
right then.

Thank you in advance,  
Frustrated

Overall, I am quite pleased with the content of the letter. It gets my point across while also sounding convincingly contrived, so no-one will suspect me in case the paper decides to publish it.

March 16th

As I was doing very badly at pinball at two in the morning, trying to avoid actually going to bed, Uncle Thelion emailed me back. I knew he was a computer geek! Only complete losers are checking their email at that time.

Dear whiner-

Lemme get this straight. You have a live-in  
boyfriend, you have the opportunity to get  
laid every night, and you think you have  
something to complain about? Maybe you should  
get your head out of your arse so you can take  
a good look around at everything you should be  
thankful for. So what if he needs to take  
remedial Sindarin? As long as he's good in bed,  
what else do you need?

Now quit your moaning. It's making all us sad,  
pathetic singles even more depressed than usual.

I think he might have a point.

March 17th

I actually did a bit of schoolwork today. Though this really wasn't a choice. I accidentally locked my keys in the house, and since Aerthos was in a night class and Elrohir had rehearsal, I had to sit around in the library until Aerthos' class was over and he could let me in. I made use of my library time by reading up on the evolution of government in Mirkwood. I may write my essay on this topic, since I took that whole Mirkwood class last semester and have already learned more about Oropher's struggle for independence than any Elf really needs to know. I bet all this stuff about Oropher would be exciting in a movie, but textbook accounts of his politics are duller than mud. Only a book found in the university library could make wars against orcs and dragons about as interesting as demographic expansion theory.

March 19th

Dad and Erestor aren't here. We even hired a car to go to the airport to meet them last night, but they weren't on the plane. They weren't on the next plane either. It wasn't until we got back home that we learned, by way of a message on our phone, that an accident had befallen Erestor earlier in the day and he is now incapable of plane travel. Actually, he is now incapable of sitting down or lying on his back. Yesterday morning, while making his breakfast, the handle broke off the pot and he spilled boiling porridge all over the kitchen floor. He then slipped in the mess and fell flat on his bum, which was scalded by the hot porridge. The message on the phone also reported that he hollered and ran into a cold shower as fast as he could, with all his clothes on. Elrohir is devastated, not because Erestor has a scalded bum, but because he and dad won't be coming to watch the rock opera. He thinks it was very selfish of Erestor not to have waited until after the trip to have injured himself.

But we ended up collecting somebody from the airport, even if it wasn't dad and Erestor. As we were grumbling and heading back out to the car park, we came up to the information desk and heard a very loud voice with a mincing Lothlórien accent, alternately whining to the clerk for mercy and hollering threats. "But I don't HAAAAVE $580! If you just let me talk to the pilot... You can trust me! My brother is a customs agent! I resent being treated like this! I already TOLD you, I was ABANDONED here! No, I don't have a ticket! Who is the manager around here? Well, I don't like your tone of voice either!"

We rounded the corner and there was Rúmil, looking lost and bedraggled. He was wearing a ratty fur coat and didn't have any shoes. It looked like he'd been at the airport for some time and had been crying on and off. I blinked and said, "Rúmil?" Rúmil stared at me as if I were his personal saviour and cried, "ELLADANOHTHANKTHESTARSYOU'VECOMETOSAVEME!!!" Then he flung his arms around my neck and hung on like his life depended on it, which it very well might've. He smelled of B.O. and was trying to cover it up with strongly scented gum, but it wasn't working.

We had really no choice but to put him in the car and take him home, since we really couldn't leave him at the airport. He said he'd been there three days without a shower or change of clothes. I believe it. Aerthos kept trying to ask him what on Earth he'd been doing at the airport for three days, but he started sobbing uncontrollably whenever the subject came up, so eventually the matter was dropped. We drove him home, gave him some pyjamas to wear, and showed him to the shower. He started crying again when I said none of us had any special face cream and he'd be forced to use our cheap hand lotion. He said its harsh chemical ingredients stung his tear-reddened cheeks, though he needed moisturising so he'd just have to suffer through it, like he suffered through everything else in life.

I didn't bother to ask him what he meant by that, because he was already exceptionally teary and I didn't want him to drown in his own sorrow. I just gave him what I hope was a sympathetic smile. Then I put some clean sheets on my bed and told him he could spend the night there while I shared with Aerthos. For some reason that made him start crying even harder than ever. I opted to leave him alone after that and not say anything further.

He spent all of today in my bed, crying, and didn't eat anything, which was fine by me since we've not bought groceries in a week and there really isn't much around to eat. I felt like a poor friend for leaving him to go to class, but his wailing is starting to get on my nerves so it was probably for the best. He still hasn't said what happened. I tried all evening to get him to talk about it, even missing the opening night of Elrohir's rock opera (which made Elrohir mad at me), but to no avail.

March 20th

From his noncommittal mumblings, I have managed to work out that Rúmil was dumped by his boyfriend. Why he was stranded at the Grey Havens airport with no clothes and no shoes, however, is still a complete mystery.

I still have not seen the rock opera. Elrohir is being polite but distant.

March 21st

After taking many herbal relaxation supplements and soaking in the tub for two hours with some aromatherapy oil I found under the sink, Rúmil was finally ready to tell me his sad story.

Just as I suspected, Ardlor dumped him (though Rúmil didn't say he was "dumped", he said "cruelly used and tossed aside without a thought for care or compassion"). Up until two weeks ago they were living in Rivendell, Ardlor working on his movie and Rúmil selling cosmetics at the mall, when Ardlor announced he'd met somebody else. The somebody turned out to be Mr. Mistoffelees from the international touring company of Cats, who, according to Rúmil, is "very short and unnaturally flexible". Ardlor and Mr. Mistoffelees were running off to Tol Eressëa together, so Rúmil used nearly every last cent in his bank account to get a one-way ticket to the Grey Havens and win his lover back before he was gone forever. He missed their flight by four hours. Not only that, but his luggage went missing, he left his shoes on the plane, and he had no money to get back to Rivendell or Lothlórien or even find a hotel for the night. That was on the 15th. He'd already stayed two nights in the airport when we found him.

I asked what he planned to do now, and he said he didn't know. Eventually go back to Lothlórien, probably, and throw himself upon the mercy of Haldir or Orophin and hope one of them has a spare sofa where he can sleep. I asked him if he needed me to lend him the money for a bus ticket, but he said no, tomorrow he was going to borrow some of my clothes and head downtown to try to get a job selling cosmetics at a mall here. He could work for his one-way bus ticket and return to his family in shame entirely by his own means. He still had his dignity.

It was funny to hear the word "dignity" being spoken by someone who, ten minutes ago, was asking if I had any old underwear he could borrow.

I hope he gets a job soon. There's just something inherently sad about an Elf who can't even afford to buy his own underwear.

March 22nd

I remember, some time ago, asking myself what kind of idiot would write a rock opera about Gil-galad. I now know.

Elrohir's rock opera was written by dad. He wrote it in the early Third Age. It was never technically published, but he sent the finished music to Círdan, which is, I guess, how it ended up in the GHU fine arts library. I don't think he ever intended it to be performed. It was more or less one big trippy tribute to his former lover. With laser lights and a smoke machine. Gil-galad probably would've liked it. He looks like the type who would be into cheesy old music.

Elrohir really was pretty good. He even made Rúmil cry during the soppy bits (though really that's not much of a feat, given Rúmil's dubious emotional state). I brought him cookies after the show, since I knew he'd appreciate those more than flowers. He arranged them into a flowerish shape on the makeup counter, then ate the whole flower while Rúmil helped him remove his stage makeup. Then he signed mine and Aerthos' programmes with lipstick, instructing us to keep them safe for when he's really famous. I pointed out that, being his twin, I could get his autograph any time, including when he's really famous, but still he insisted on putting my programme in a ziplock freezer baggie for safekeeping.

When we got home I rang dad, even though it was three in the morning there. I said, "Happy birthday!" having just then remembered that it was his and Erestor's birthday today. He groaned sleepily and said, "My birthday ended three hours ago." I told him I saw his rock opera, and Elrohir was an excellent Gil-galad, but didn't he think that was a bit creepy? He said he hadn't thought of that, and yawned very loudly. I told him I hadn't sent his birthday present yet, since I thought he'd be here to pick it up, and he mumbled that he didn't mind. Then he asked if I could ring back tomorrow because Erestor was starting to hiss at him menacingly to get off the damn phone.

Dad wrote a rock opera. I never expected anything like this. He just seems too boring. But I guess he went through some kind of artistic phase before he and mum got married. And he wrote a rock opera about Gil-galad.

Now I don't know whether I should be impressed or deeply, deeply embarrassed.


	9. Chapter 9

March 23rd

When I got home from class today Rúmil wasn't home, but there was a message for him on the phone from the Grey Havens Airport Authority. His suitcase, it seems, is in Valmar. Nobody knows how it got there. Nobody knows exactly how or when it will be coming back. Apparently the airport in Valmar is investigating its appearance under suspicious circumstances. When I relayed this information to Rúmil, he was mortified at the prospect of having his intimate articles examined by Vanyarin customs agents. He seems to be the kind of person who would have a wide assortment of embarrassing paraphernalia in his luggage. Paraphernalia which, if cultural television programmes are any indication, Vanyarin customs agents would not appreciate. He admitted to having packed with the idea of winning his boyfriend back in mind.

I rang Glorfindel on Finarfin's mobile to see if he could help get this sorted out, and was surprised to learn he's back in Tirion. "I thought you moved to Valmar," I said. "I did," he replied curtly, in voice that clearly said "I don't want to talk about this." Naturally, I had to press the subject and asked, "Why'd you move back to Tirion?"

"It was more convenient," he said in the same tone of voice. "Convenient how?" I asked. He sighed and said, "We found Valmar isn't the right place to live at the moment." "Howso?" He made a frustrated sound and must've realised about then that I wasn't going to give up, because he launched into a rather lengthy explanation of how, in Valmar, there had been some small to-do about Aralindë refusing to wear a headscarf, which, Glorfindel pointed out, not all metropolitan Vanyarin women do nowadays anyhow. He refused to force her to do so, and Ingwë told him that having an unruly and disruptive wife would damage him politically. He told Ingwë to do something unpleasant while going someplace that isn't typically mentioned in civil conversation. Then he and Aralindë quickly fled back to Tirion. "We are political exiles," he said, "so it shouldn't be too difficult for you to see why I can't exactly go rushing back there to claim a suitcase full of dildos."

I asked him if he knew anybody who would be willing to claim such a dubious suitcase in Valmar. He asked exactly what was in the suitcase. I put it on speakerphone and Rúmil told him, "Mostly wigs, platform shoes, a few sequinned frocks, a large case of cosmetics, some really expensive underwear- make sure that's all still in there, I don't want it stolen!- my hair products, then the usual things like a vibrator and a couple leather harnesses and stuff." Glorfindel muttered, "Right, the usual..." then said, "But with all the frocks and shoes, it could theoretically be a woman's suitcase?" Rúmil said, "Erm... a very... high-end woman. Maybe a dominatrix?" "Ah," said Glorfindel, "too bad your grandmother isn't here, Elladan, she'd be perfect for this job."

In the end, Glorfindel said he'd see what he could do, but Rúmil didn't look very hopeful. He sat down at the kitchen table and sighed a silent goodbye to all his lacy underthings and enormous wigs. I was glad to be able to leave him to be depressed by himself; I had schoolwork to do.

March 24th

I have to present a monologue in Quenya. I think I am going to die. I have to write, memorise, and perform a five-minute piece in front of the class on April 5th. How is this fair? I don't think this is fair. We should at least be able to work in pairs. I could do a five-minute performance with Elrohir. But by myself? That's just madness.

I think everyone else in the class feels the same way. They all cringed and looked worried when the professor announced the assignment. The subject is: "What I plan to do in the future". I think that means, "What lousy job do I think I'll be stuck doing for the rest of my life". So not only do I have to write a crappy Quenya performance for myself, I have to write about being the worst Elven leader in the history of the world since Fëanor. Great! Hopefully I can anticipate that my rule will be just dreadfully boring until I move to Valinor, as opposed to full of murder and chaos and culminating in an abrupt death-by-balrog. Though really, it would make for a more exciting performance if I were killed by a balrog. I could wear a costume. Or maybe Elrohir could wear a costume and be the balrog. He'd like that. The professor did say other people could be part of the performance, so long as they didn't speak. I wonder if roaring counts as speaking.

No further word on Rúmil's suitcase.

March 26th

Next week is the last full week of school. In that time, I need to:  
Finish my essay about Oropher  
Work on another essay for my directed study  
Prepare for my Quenya presentation  
Make a replica of some historic weapon  
Run twenty laps around the gym, do forty pushups and forty situps, pass a flexibility test, and write a written exam on badminton rules.

I am not worried about any of the P.E., since I know all the badminton rules and the only way to study for the other stuff is by doing it, and that's what we do in class time. I have started my historic weapon replica already (I am making Ringil, Fingolfin's sword, out of cardboard and fun foam). I'm more or less done taking notes for the Oropher essay, so all I have left to do on that is put it all together coherently. And my Quenya presentation... well... I'll just work on that a bit every day. Or maybe ask Elrohir if he'll do it for me if I make him a whole bowl of cookie dough to eat.

The one I'm unsure about is the essay for my directed study. It can be about anything remotely related to modern leadership. Actually, it doesn't even have to be an essay. It has to be a "project". But since I have never been good at projects, being more a literary type than a creative type, I might just stick with the essay. I also think I should go see the professor this week. We've only had four meetings together all term. I hope that doesn't mean I'm failing.

March 27th

Aerthos, Elrohir and I had a catching-up-on-schoolwork day today. Rúmil sat in the basement and sullenly watched videos on the tiny television while we did. Elrohir was very enthusiastic about agreeing to be my balrog, and will be asking the theatre department on Monday if he can borrow a balrog costume. He asked me if I wanted to be myself for his presentation, and since I figured it was only fair, I said yes. Also, it would look a bit foolish if he had somebody else playing me.

Nobody had any ideas as to what I should do for my directed study project. Actually Elrohir thought I should make a diorama, but I dismissed that immediately. A Popsicle-stick model of Gondolin might be adequate for elementary school, but not final-year university.

After supper I rang dad. He said that Erestor's still had trouble sitting down and that ointment had to be applied to the blisters on his bum on a daily basis. There was nothing else to report. It must've been a slow news day in Rivendell. After I hung up, I remembered I still haven't sent either of them a birthday present.

March 29th

Spent all of Quenya class working on my monologue. Elrohir helped. We were able to work very well together, since our projects are so similar. Mine is about taking over leadership of Rivendell and being eventually killed by a balrog, and his is about helping me take over leadership of Rivendell and facilitating my inevitable death by balrog. It's all very harmonious. He thinks I should aim for being High King of the Noldor, though, and his project has a definite "help Elladan become High King" theme to it. I'm not entirely sure if I approve of that. High King sounds like a lot of work. Though if I were King, I would be able to do whatever I wanted. In theory.

March 30th

I still have not come up with any essay or project to do for my directed study. I wanted to get going on that today, but Rúmil insisted he was going to make us supper and he needed me to go to the supermarket with him to buy food. He still has no money.

Rúmil is making us authentic Nandorin food. He claims to be half Nandorin or something, which I don't think is true, since Haldir is constantly making racial slurs about the Nandor (and not in an affectionate way). But Rúmil is a pretty good ethnic cook, Nandorin or not. I think he's making something with noodles and prawns and about fifty spices. There are bits of ginger all over the counter.

March 31st

Had leftover coconut noodle something for breakfast. I'm going to suggest to Rúmil that he cook more often. Really it's the least he can do, since he's living here for free and continuously borrowing my clothes.

Worked all class on my Quenya monologue with Elrohir, but still haven't even managed to finish half of it. I perform on Friday. I'm not finished my fun foam sword either, or my Oropher essay, and I haven't even thought of a topic for my directed study yet. School is over in five days. You think I would've learned by now.

April 2nd

I finished writing my Quenya presentation half an hour before class. Actually Elrohir finished writing it. I was dictating to him, and he translated into Quenya as he typed. That worked out much better than me actually having to think in Quenya.

I offered to present first, since otherwise I'd have sat through the entire hour dreading my turn. At least this way I got it over with and out of the way as soon as possible. I read my boring speech, and Elrohir the Balrog did zany things in the background, causing the class to laugh and (hopefully) not notice how boring I was. At the end, he leapt off a chair and tackled me to the lino tiles, getting my fancy Noldo costume all dusty and bending my tinfoil circlet. Then the class had a few minutes to ask me questions, during which time Elrohir changed from his Balrog costume into his own Noldo outfit for his presentation. Unfortunately most of the questions the class had wanted to ask me were aimed at the Balrog, so it was a very awkward three minutes while we waited in silence for Elrohir to return.

Elrohir's project made my life sound way more exciting that it will ever likely be. With his talents, he should really look into becoming a car salesman or real estate agent. I just stood there throughout, following his cues to look busy, pose heroically, struggle with empty balrog costume, die, and so on. Everyone cheered when he was done. When we were excused to change out of our Noldorin costumes and into regular clothes, I took as long as possible. I wasn't too keen on going back and listening to forty-five more minutes of Quenya, and rightly so. When I returned and took my seat, a girl who was so nervous she looked ready to cry was reading about the virtues of reusable cloth nappies in her housewife monologue.

After Quenya, I went directly home to work on the rest of my assignments. I still don't have a topic for my directed studies project.

April 3rd

Oropher essay finished. One less worry. I rang Thranduil to check on a few points, but I forgot the time difference and accidentally woke him up when it was three in the morning in Mirkwood. I hung up straight away when I realised what I was doing. I hope he doesn't have number display. Because I didn't talk to Thranduil I was forced to make up a few things, but I'm sure the prof won't notice.

April 4th

In a surge of panic this afternoon, I decided the only thing I could do for my directed studies project (which is due tomorrow) is gather up all my old term papers, jumble relevant bits of them together, find some random images, and bung it all together into a website. After eight hours of doing this, I am starting to think that recycling schoolwork is far more difficult than just producing something new. And it doesn't help that I suck at HTML.

April 5th

Last day of classes. Ever. Except for exams, but those don't count, since I'm not there to learn anything. I finished my website project at eleven this morning (after going to bed at two and getting up at seven), burned it onto a CD, and headed for class. I handed it to the prof and said, "Here's my final assignment." She said, "Oh, thanks." And that was that. I had an hour to spare before Quenya, so I went and slid my Oropher essay under the Poli Sci prof's door. Then I still had forty-five minutes, so I went to the props lab and worked on my foam Ringil. I have until the 16th to finish it, which is fortunate, since right now it looks nothing like Ringil and an awful lot like a crappy fake sword made of fun foam. The lab instructor suggested I try putting shoe polish on it. I might do that.

There was nothing to do in Quenya except sit through the remaining class presentations. I listened to a girl who wanted to be a child speech pathologist, a girl who wanted to be an interior designer, a boy who wanted to do something with computers (he wasn't sure exactly what), a girl who was going to set up government programs for impoverished children in Valmar, and two boys who had planned on joining the army but, now that the war's over, decided to start a dog food company together instead. I tried my best not to fall asleep during any of it, but I was so tired I'm sure I nodded off more than once. Elrohir had to poke me a few times.

There were ten minutes left at the end of class, so, after the prof announced that we all had to come back on either Wednesday or Friday for our oral tests, we sang songs. Elrohir sang loudly and looked upset. I think he's going to miss this class. I sang quietly and watched the clock. I am not going to miss this class.

As we walked back home, all the corridors in every building were full of people crying and hugging and partying. We stopped by the residence to see what was going on, but apart from the engineering students and the agriculture students teaming up to precisely measure and cut bales of hay to perfectly fill commerce lounge from floor to ceiling, nothing very interesting was happening. We did see the education students setting up a cabaret in the Uni Centre Multipurpose Room, though, so we bought tickets. It's an "Old Skool" theme cabaret, which means dressing up like mid-Third Age rappers. I think I might just wear my jeans and let Elrohir do the rapper thing.

Aerthos wasn't home when we arrived, but Rúmil was. He jumped on us the minute we walked through the door and started squealing about how he now has a job. This morning he was hired as an aesthetician at Super Modern Beauty World, a hair and makeup salon in the downtown ethnic Nandorin community. He doesn't have a certificate in aesthetics, but he's been selling cosmetics at the mall long enough to know how to effectively apply them. Plus he speaks Nandorin, which was the main qualifying factor. He starts on Thursday. So to celebrate, he's coming to the cabaret with us tonight. He's going to give me a cabaret makeover. I'm worried this will end in me looking very foolish.

April 6th

I ended up not going to the cabaret. Aerthos and I are fighting.

It started just after six last night, when Aerthos woke me up from my nap to angrily accuse me of cheating on him. I had no idea what he was talking about, so I said, "I have no idea what you're talking about." He dragged me out of bed and over to the computer, where the picture of Legolas' bum was on prominent display. "That's Elrohir's picture," I said. "Then why is it on your computer!" he asked. "Why are you snooping around on my computer?" I asked back. He said he wasn't snooping. All the school computer labs were full of last-minute essay-writers, and he needed to write his last-minute essay on my computer. His essay happened to be about Legolas' role in the War of the Ring. He started it this morning while I was at school, then came back to work on it again after his first class, but had forgotten where he saved it. When he did a hard drive search for "Legolas", that picture came up.

I tried to explain how Legolas wanted a picture of Elrohir's autograph on his bum, and how I had just received a new digital camera that everyone wanted to try out, but he didn't believe me. I offered to delete the picture, since I'd already emailed it to Legolas and Elrohir, but even that didn't help. Aerthos stormed off and spent the next hour locked in the bathroom, allegedly getting ready for the cabaret. I didn't know what else to do, so I went back to sleep.

At nine, Rúmil knocked on the door and said he was ready to give me my makeover. I was too groggy to dissuade him. He started by doing my hair in a fancy way, then choosing my clothes. He honestly expected me to wear Elrohir's vinyl trousers and see-through black shirt. I think he must've noticed that Aerthos and I weren't getting along, because he said, "Now this will definitely catch his attention!" Then he handed me a little spray bottle of cologne, "Guaranteed to make anyone feel way sexy," and told me to spray some up in the air and then walk into the mist. I did. I stepped into the mist of cologne, and got some in my eyes and inhaled a good portion of the rest of it. Between the streaming tears and the uncontrollable coughing as I gasped for breath, I don't think it helped make me very sexy. Rúmil shouted "You should've kept your eyes closed!" just as I blindly stumbled into the bed frame and cracked my shin.

It was about then that I said I wasn't going to the cabaret. I changed out of Elrohir's clothes, gave Rúmil my ticket so he wouldn't have to pay high door prices, and got back into bed. Elrohir came in to try to change my mind (wearing baggy neon shorts and a Hypercolour shirt), but I gruffly told him he'd have to enjoy Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer by himself. He asked if he could at least borrow my camera so he could take pictures for me, and I said yes. Luckily, I immediately I remembered that he is Elrohir and can't be trusted with a $400 camera, so I gave him twenty bucks to buy a Kodak Funsaver instead.

Then I went to sleep and stayed asleep until four in the morning, when I had to go to the bathroom. I got up to go and found Aerthos and Rúmil sitting on the sofa together in the dark with the television on mute, talking very quietly. I was sure they were talking about me, because what else would they have in common to talk about? I accused them of doing so, but Aerthos haughtily said, "We have much better things to talk about than you, Elladan." That made me a bit worried. What could they possibly have to talk about at four in the morning?

I told them I couldn't sleep and wanted to watch television, which I hoped would give them a good opportunity to quit their weird talking and go to bed, but it didn't. They just went to go talk in the basement. It was six before they finally came back upstairs and went to sleep.

I was supposed to go in to the props lab and work on my foam Ringil today, but instead I spent the day in a groggy haze on the sofa, alternately dozing and watching bad home décor programmes. Elrohir did go to the lab for a while to work on a papier maché Crown of Morgoth. He brought home his fake Silmarilli (made of raisins, glow-in-the-dark paint, iridescent cellophane, and shellac) to try to cheer me up. I told him they were very nice, if a bit lumpy. He's going to try to smooth them out tomorrow with more shellac.

April 8th

Aerthos is spending altogether too much time with Rúmil lately. Mostly they sit together on the sofa talking quietly, and falling suddenly silent whenever I walk into the room. At first when Elrohir suggested they were plotting against me, I told him that was the dumbest thing I'd heard all week. Now I'm not so sure.

I've been sharing the hide-a-bed downstairs with Elrohir because Aerthos has made it very clear he doesn't want me in our room. I think his reaction to the Legolas picture has been a bit extreme.

April 9th

Quenya oral exam today. All I had to do was talk to the professor in Quenya. She asked me a few questions like "What are your favourite classes?" and "What are your hobbies?" I didn't have a favourite class, so I lied and said I was doing really well in Math (mainly because Math was one of the only Quenya subject names I could remember), and told her about my exciting hobby of playing computer games. Then I had to sing a song. The only songs I knew all the Quenya words to were Fiommereth songs, so I sang "Á Cena, Melwa Lohtë". In hindsight, that was probably a bad choice, due to the song's rather operatic nature. I started on the wrong note and ended up having to start over in a higher key when the song went too low. But after that I was free to go.

I met Elrohir in the props lab, where he was carefully shellacking his Silmarilli to try to make them less lumpy. I took out my Ringil and started dabbing on shoe polish. We worked happily side by side, listening to an oldies radio station that seemed to be playing a non-stop line-up of dad's favourite songs. At four-thirty when the props lab closed we went to the pizza place across the Parkway for supper. I didn't really want to go home, because of Aerthos and Rúmil. Elrohir didn't want to go home either, but for completely different reasons. His basement bedroom has ants in it and he claims they smell funny.

When we did get home, Aerthos had put on his "My Fair Lady" CD and he and Rúmil were waltzing around the living room singing "I Could Have Danced All Night." Though, as usual, they were singing a different verb instead of "danced". Rúmil had put on fake eyelashes an impressive amount of makeup, and Aerthos was holding a margarita and wearing clothes that were far too tight. They are walking, talking (and dancing) stereotypes.

I went downstairs without a word, to help Elrohir play Nintendo.

April 11th

Rang dad this morning and asked if he'd booked plane tickets home for Elrohir and I yet. He said no, since he was wondering if I wanted to stay in the Grey Havens with my boyfriend. I said "Certainly not." I was relieved to note he had the decency not to ask why not. Then he gave me his MasterCard number and told me to book the tickets myself. I wonder if he'd be upset if I booked Elrohir and me into first class.

April 12th

I worked on Ringil today while Elrohir worked on his Silmarilli, but I don't seem to be making much progress. The shoe polish looks nice, but it takes forever to apply.

Neither Aerthos nor Rúmil was home when I got in at five, so Elrohir and I had our own quiet supper of hot dogs and Alphagetti. Then I booked our tickets home, on the 20th. I was more than a little disappointed that the airline doesn't offer first class or business class on short-haul flights.

April 13th

Aerthos and Rúmil are in love. They told me officially today. I said I was very happy for them, which was almost true. I would've been happy for them if they weren't so annoying. Then Aerthos broke down sobbing and said a bunch of stuff like he never meant to hurt me and he was sorry it had to end this way and it wasn't my fault and he hoped we could still be friends. I told him not to worry. Really, I was relieved. I've been wondering how to break up with him for a long time now, and this is the perfect solution. Aerthos also said he was sorry for making such a big deal of the photo of Legolas' bum on my hard drive. He only did it because he was feeling guilty over cheating on me with Rúmil (they've been in love ever since they first saw each other at the airport, I guess) and was trying to shift some of the blame.

But things are surprisingly more harmonious now at home. I have moved back into my room and Rúmil has moved in with Aerthos. And everyone fights less, since we don't have to pretend we're still in love with/not in love with everyone else. The only person not affected is Elrohir. He still just sits downstairs and plays Nintendo.

April 16th

Ringil is finished. I went in to work on it every day this week, and just finished a few hours before the props lab closed for the year. It looks almost like a real sword if I stand across the room and squint my eyes. I handed it over to the lab tech for grading, and can pick it up on Monday.

Yesterday was my last Poli Sci exam (ever!), and I think that went well enough. By some incredible stroke of luck, the long essay question worth half the exam marks was about Oropher. I was able to finish in under two hours.

But. I am now completely finished everything to do with university forever. I have no more classes, no more exams, no more assignments, no more anything. I am going to celebrate by drinking a whole bottle of bad wine by myself while watching television.

April 17th

I spent all of last night drinking a bottle of bad wine and watching television. Aerthos and Rúmil were out doing something stereotypically gay by themselves, so Elrohir made me fish sticks for supper. Then he helped me watch television while drinking a whole bottle of Coke by himself. Sometime later, when I was good and drunk and Elrohir was good and hyper, we decided to ring Glorfindel. Luckily, he had his (Finarfin's) mobile switched on.

He said, "Finwë Lauron," and I yelled, "GUESS WHAT GLORFINDEL I'M DONE UNIVERSITY FOREVER!" while Elrohir shouted "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" in the background until he started coughing.

There was a short pause before Glorfindel said, "Elladan?" I said, "Elladan is DONE UNIVERSITY FOREVER!" Glorfindel said, "Yes, you told me that already." Elrohir, who had finally stopped coughing, yelled "WOOOOOO!" again. After another pause, Glorfindel asked, "Are you drunk?" Both Elrohir and I yelled "WOOOOOOO!" in reply. I think we were under the impression that this was the funniest thing ever. Glorfindel made a growly sound and said, "I have to go now," and disconnected. I think he was just envious because it was the middle of the afternoon in Valinor and he couldn't be drunk too.

I spent all of today being lazy and sort of sick.

April 18th

After realising that our plane leaves in two days, Elrohir and I decided we should probably pack. Packing to go home is never as organised or neat as packing to go to school. I tend to just stuff everything in boxes carelessly.

First we boxed up everything that wouldn't fit in our suitcases. Elrohir said a tearful temporary goodbye to the Nintendo. I'm not sure where it all comes from, but somehow we have far more stuff to take home than what we brought in the first place. Then when all those boxes were placed in the front entry ready to go to the bus depot tomorrow, we started packing up our clothes and things to go on the plane with us. Naturally I had far too much stuff, and had to end up putting some of it in more boxes. In all, we had eleven boxes to send on the bus. I'm glad I still have dad's MasterCard number.

April 19th

It took two taxi rides to get all the boxes to the bus depot, but even the cost of the taxis paled in comparison to the cost of shipping all those boxes to Rivendell on the bus. I'm not going to mention it to dad, and hopefully he won't ask or notice.

Naturally, as tonight is my last night in the Grey Havens (hopefully forever), Aerthos and Rúmil are having a dinner party. But since they don't want to cook, the dinner party is going to be at the Ramada's dining room. I've invited Angiliath and her girlfriend to come along, and Elrohir has invited Nova. It promises to be a memorable evening.

April 20th

I am at the Grey Havens airport. Our plane has been delayed, as usual, though this time it's because one of the security guards found traces of explosives on Elrohir's backpack. He's been hauled off for questioning. Meanwhile, his bags have been taken off the plane, we've been grounded until the situation clears up, and everyone is angrily waiting around. I'm too hung over to care. 

I spent all of last night's supper just waiting for something awful to happen, but it never did. I wasted a good worry for nothing. Nova was waiting at the restaurant when we arrived and Angiliath and Merenel showed up a few minutes later. Outside of the fact that she was holding Angiliath's hand, I never would have suspected Merenel was gay. She was wearing makeup a flowery dress. Actually, she reminded me a lot of Arwen. She sat next to Nova at the table and the two spent most of the evening taking about designer shoes. Angiliath sat across from Elrohir and the two of them spent most of the evening discussing the evolution of video game systems. I was forced to talk to Aerthos and Rúmil, and all they wanted to talk about was actors they thought were hot, and which famous people are allegedly gay. Rúmil swore up and down that he had it on good authority that Sauron was gay. I refrained from pointing out that, since Sauron doesn't have a body, whether or not he's gay is irrelevant.

After hearing the full list of Who's Gay in the World According to Rúmil (Aragorn made the list, which made me accidentally snort water up my nose), the food arrived. I had ordered a hamburger, since it was the only thing on the menu that didn't list mushrooms as an ingredient. It had mushrooms on it anyhow. I scraped them off and gave them to Elrohir. He likes mushrooms, but only fried ones that came out of a tin. These ones were fried and definitely looked tinned, so he was happy. There were no chicken fingers for Elrohir to order, so he had a mushroom-stuffed chicken breast. Unfortunately the mushrooms in his chicken weren't tinned, so he gave them to Nova. Having grown up on the borders of the Shire, Nova appreciates all kinds of mushrooms. Elrohir stuffed my tinned fried mushrooms into the mushroom hole in his chicken.

When the food was done, we ordered several pitchers of beer and two bottles of wine, and kept drinking until the manager kicked us out at midnight. Then we went to the Freehouse next door for more drinking, where Aerthos and Rúmil made a proud display of their sexuality by mauling each other in one of the booths. The dignified-looking couple in the next booth got up and left. I just kept drinking. By the time last call was sounded at two, we were all thoroughly inebriated. Angiliath and Merenel couldn't stop laughing, Nova was sobbing to Elrohir about how she was worried he wouldn't remember her, and Rúmil and Aerthos were telling me how much they loved me. I was momentarily caught up in the sappiness and told them I loved them too. But then I remembered how annoying they are and began to list all the things they do to piss me off.

Mainly I'm concerned with the complete lack of common sense from both of them. Aerthos is always leaving lights on all over the house while at the same time complaining about the energy bill. The compost bin is always overflowing with banana peels, since he has this unfounded notion that bananas increase one's sex drive. Plus, he seems to think that restaurant dishes are free for the taking. Half the glasses in our cupboard say "Moxie's". And Rúmil is just plain wasteful. While normal people sort laundry into broad categories, he sorts it into miniscule piles by exact colour. The other day I caught him putting a turquoise load through the machine.

They both broke down to admit that it was all true and they were terrible people. Which is what I wanted, I suppose, though it didn't make me feel any less annoyed. Maybe because they didn't offer to change their behaviour. Then Rúmil downed the last of his Rev in one gulp and promptly ran to the toilets to be sick. We went home after that. Once somebody is sick in the public toilets, the party's over. It just ruins the mood.

According to my bedside travel alarm clock, I went to bed at quarter to four and got up to ring a taxi for the airport at seven thirty. I have now been sitting in the same uncomfortable plastic boarding lounge seat for nearly three hours, and I dare not fall asleep because the airport is a very shady place indeed and some criminal would likely steal my computer, passport, and valuable carry-on luggage. And that would just delay the plane even more (not to mention upset me).

April 21st

I am never leaving home again. Everything I want is right here. And dad pays for it, so that makes it all the better.

Dad picked us up at the airport last night. He was dreadfully worried over what had delayed the plane for so long, and Elrohir had to explain the whole story about how the shellac he used on his Silmarilli containing similar ingredients to plastic explosive. He had dripped some shellac on his backpack in the props lab, and it set off the detector at the airport. He had to be strip searched and eventually I was called in to verify that yes, he had been using shellac to cover glow-in-the-dark painted raisins in an attempt to make fake Silmarilli, and no, the Silmarilli were for a school project and he wasn't attempting to sell them on the black market. Luckily I took a photo the other week of Elrohir laboriously painting raisins in the props lab, and had the picture on my camera to show the security guards. His backpack was in the photo, right next to a can of shellac.

Dad said he was going to write a stern letter of complaint to the Grey Havens Airport Authority for daring to abuse his son, but both Elrohir and I assured him that it was an honest mistake. Elrohir does look, act and dress rather like a thug, after all, and he even admitted that trying to sneak explosives onto an airplane seems like something he might try. He tried to sneak on a plastic cutlery set, but they confiscated it. I'm not sure why, though, because they gave us plastic cutlery on the plane to use with our dinners.

Erestor had a nice home-cooked supper waiting when we arrived at home. Supper that covered all four food groups and looked like it had actual nutritional value. Supper that didn't come out of a freezer box. I've missed eating actual supper, at an actual table on actual dishes. We had a real supper conversation, too. Dad asked us how the semester went, and both Elrohir and I said, "Good." A conversation in our household is defined as an exchange of two or more words between two or more people. Average conversation length is between five and ten words (as in, "Did you clean the bathroom yet?" "No").

After supper, Elrohir got the iguana out and hand-fed it little pieces of mushy cat food. It was shedding, which Elrohir took as a good sign that dad and Erestor have been feeding it well in his absence. He showed it his Silmarilli. It tried to eat one. Then it climbed up onto his head and stayed there while he watched television. It sort of made me wish I had an iguana to sit on my head as I watched television, but then the iguana crawled away and pooped down the back of the sofa. At that point, I was glad I didn't have an iguana to clean up after.

April 24th

Some of my final marks are starting to come in on the GHU transcript website. So far, I have 88 in P.E. and 84 in Poli Sci 442. Dad is taking this as a good sign that he can now retire safely. Today I found him and Erestor sitting at the kitchen table looking over brochures for condo resorts in Eldos and Tavrobel. Elrohir got all excited over one particular brochure, until I explained to him that the photo inside was of plain old tourists on a nude beach, not wild Elves sunning themselves by the sea.

April 26th

The rest of my marks are in. I got 81 in prop-making, 81 in Quenya, and an unhoped-for 86 in my directed study. I guess the prof really liked that crappy compilation website project I did.

Elrohir got 87 in prop-making and 96 in Quenya. That's now two things at which he's better than I. And for the year overall, his average is 1,4 higher. Something is terribly wrong with the universe.

April 29th

Dad had a Talk with me after work today. Now that all my marks are in and my graduation is an absolute certainty, I have to start going to the office with him. He and Erestor have decided that they will retire in one year's time. That means I have one year to learn how to do his job. I told him that one year wasn't exactly enough time to learn how to be a competent world leader, but he kept saying he had faith in me. I took that to mean that he'd already started planning his bright, work-free Valinor future and didn't want to stick around here any longer.

So Monday will be the first day of my Official Responsible Adult Life. At nearly 3000 years old, it's probably high time to do so. But I still don't really want to. Official Responsible Adult Life seems like it would be the sort of thing that takes up a lot of time and energy and sucks the fun out of every aspect of everything. And, worst of all, I might end up turning into dad. That's a fate worse than death-by-balrog...


End file.
